Memories

During the chaos of packing, I didn't really have time to think about the fact that we were leaving the house we had worked so hard to turn into our home. Emotions got lost amongst the boxes and packing tape. But when we were walking upstairs to take one last look around, Brian asked me if I was sad. I replied that I was, but not sad enough to cry. Then, we got to the top of the stairs and entered Brennan's room .... and I lost it.

The tears weren't about the time and effort that went into renovating the room, painting the Dr. Seuss characters on the walls, or decorating it for our little bundle of joy. They were about the memories that flooded me every time I've walked into that room since October 2009. The early nights when we paced the floor, shushing, bouncing, rocking to get the crying to stop. The following weeks during which I would nurse, supplement with the bottle, then pump, for what seemed like all day long, sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Cuddles at night, smiles in the morning, reading before naptime, books pulled from the bookshelf and strewn across the room. So much of Brennan's short little life has occurred in that room. And the fact that we're leaving it behind hit me like brick wall. But I stood in that room, with Brian's arms around me and my face buried in his chest, he reminded me that we'll make new memories in Florida. That's when i realized that we're not leaving those memories behind. We'll always have them in our hearts, no matter where we live. And just because someone else will be living in that room, doesn't mean that they will have our memories. They will make their own in our little house. Our first house. The one we made our home, just like we'll make our new house a home. And we'll of course make memories in that house that I'll once again have to pack into my memory bank as we leave that place behind. It's the cycle of life. What's important is to remember that we hold memories not in physical spaces, but within us instead.