The House That Built Me

After six years of discussing the matter, imagining the possibilities, and cringing at the thought of taking out a mortgage on a house they already owned, it happened. Ground has finally been broken, and transformation of the house in which I was raised has begun.

We have resorted to bribing my parents with food to let us help move all of the furniture out of the main floor. The food is only a bribe because everything that made their kitchen functional was removed. The bathroom that Max and I shared growing up is now

where dishes are washed, the pots and pans are stored, and the rice is made. The stairs and the entire upper level have been shielded with plastic sheeting to minimize the spread of construction dust, but it conjures thoughts of the sterilization tents in ET and is very bizarre. Poor Hazel and Simon are visibly sleep-deprived, and the stress of having strangers around banging on things all day has induced panicked shedding and lots of extra attention.

Part of the cleaning out process meant that I had to retrieve things from my old room that somehow didn't make it to college, or ever move into subsequent homes with me. Perhaps the nostalgia I was plunged into sorting out pictures and memories from my childhood is what has made this transition a weird experience for me, but it has been much more emotional than I expected. Supporting Mom's decisions to update the house they built 26 years ago has been easy - the flooring is older than Max and needs to go! But actually

experiencing the house being taken a part has been difficult to justify in my heart. Every mark on the walls, every corner of the yard, and every box in the garage is tied to some sort of memory. I can't imagine what it is like for my parents, who picked out the lot, built the house, and raised a family there.

The floor plan just shows an extension on the back of the house and the build-out of the patio that was always supposed to be turned into a sun room. But from the inside, nothing looks the same! I know new memories will be made, and that all of the changes are for the best, but it still feels like a sort of permanent "goodbye." Alas, into the breach!