The House That Built Me

My Dad is selling the house I grew up in. 
He and my stepmother have retired and are moving to the country. 
I went today to pick up the last of my things there… 
I sobbed like a baby. 
The House That Built Me by Maranda Lambert on Grooveshark
The street where I learned to ride my bike, 
played endless games of kickball and hide-n-seek, 
and where we knew all of our neighbors. 
The mailbox that sent me my letters of acceptance
from my performance arts high school and college
(told you this was going to be sappy).
Although the tree, sandbox, swing set, and picnic table are gone,
it’s still a SWEET backyard.
The first address I memorized.
It’s ridiculous to hold on to all my old trophies from dance years,
but I’m keeping my very first one.
Last photo on the front steps,
through teary eyes…
Goodbye, house. 
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Comments

  1. Aw that must be really hard to deal with. I’m sorry! It sounds like you will have some really amazing memories to carry with you though. 🙂

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