This old house has seen a lot of memories since she was first built in 1869.
Since I started calling her “home” in 2011, I have grown into many different versions of myself. From the heartbroken single gal teaching preschool during the week and chain smoking Marlboro Lights and hula hooping through the weekend, to the “blueberry girl” returning to work on the family farm she swore she never wanted, to discovering myself and my long-buried passions and learning to love again, and now my most recent transformation: MAMA, this house has been a constant through all of the changes in my life.
She has sheltered me over the years through snow storms, heavy winds, and crippling bouts of depression + anxiety. She looks beautiful even on the darkest winter day, but she really shines when the trees and flowers bloom around her - a flower crown of glory to honor her stately presence🌻
She kept me safe and warm through the long months that my baby belly grew and then she held strong during the bone-rattling labor pains I endured to bring my son into the world, afterward cocooning my little family safe and sound for the most luxurious and earned sleep of my entire life.
Today, she watches as my son learns to scoot across her farmhouse floor, and I imagine she is chuckling along with us at his joyful experiments with both word and physical space.
I feel honored to call this farmhouse home, and fall asleep each night thanking God for granting us the opportunity to grow our family and raise our babies here.
She has seen a lot, this farmhouse. But the best is yet to come.
Written March 2019