Home Is Where Your Story Begins

This week, our dining room table went to my uncle's house, and our couch and reclining chair now rests comfortably in my parents' garage until my cousin in Paris, TX can come pick it up, so our 'chairs' are now the floor and the coffee table.


I haven't had much time to feel anything right now as we spent Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday packing. Our lives are now pretty much packed into boxes, with a few last minute/miscellaneous objects laying around. I had no idea that we could cram so much into that 879 square feet.Brylee spent her last night in the apartment on Thursday night, and last night was ours. When I woke up to the morning sun this morning, I lay there trying to think of anything that could be done to make it feel more organized. The movers come on Monday, and we won't be there except to do any last minute packing, so instead, I lay there counting the sun dots on the walls and watched them slowly multiply.


This was Brylee's first home, and she won't even remember it. But I will tell her this: it was a very nice, cozy place. Nothing fancy, but it did hold everything we needed for the time. Sure, the door to the master closet could have been hinged on differently, and the kitchen a titch bigger, but it was our home for just over a year.

And soon there will be another place we call home. I can guarantee it's where Cary and Brylee (and Chester for that matter) are.