This is how we left it

Our home in Utah, though we are told the snow has melted. Other than that, nothing really has changed, except it's not ours anymore. The papers have been signed, the loan has been finalized, and the new owners are already making use of every inch of footage we so delicately and tastefully renovated. The process of selling our house from a distance of thousands of miles away proved to be a difficult one. As expected, in our desperation to sell we were more generous to this buyer than my instinct told me to be, meeting more financial demands than were really fair. However, it was this same instinct that directed me toward Madelyn-style tantrums every time we came into conflict with the buyer, which in the long run would definitely have proven detrimental. Thank goodness for my Ryan, the rational one, the one who is in fact getting oxygen to his brain these days, who kept reminding me of the big picture. We are making these compromises to sell the house and move on. And finally, today, we did.
In my memory it will always be our home, how can it not? It contains the first bedroom walls I ever painted with my sweet baby girls in mind, a rich shade of yellow I saw the sunshine in. When I rolled the brilliant rays across the walls, I watched scenes of childhood unfold before me like a play, a little preview of memories to come. I knew this home would see their first steps, hear their first words, and be saturated with childhood. What I hadn't realized was how briefly each season would last. Somehow these newborn babies became toddlers well on their way to being little girls. They can construct seven-word sentences. They get lost creating entire imaginary worlds. They know how to express themselves, and that's how I know they know the ache of homesickness. I can't say I blame them. I still wake up in the middle of the night and wish for this home so strongly I can taste it. But I know we will find new walls I can paint and watch memories of this next chapter unfold. I can't wait to look out the window and see my girls riding bikes. I can't wait to answer the door to violin students, I can't wait to hear the details of Ryan's latest film projects, I can't wait to see our little girls as big sisters. Finally, today, we can start looking for just where it will be.