To my childhood home,

I’m feeling a little sentimental, especially after listening to Miranda Lambert’s song "The House That Built Me" on repeat for the past few hours.

It’s almost been a whole year since I decided I was going to move to an entirely new state, 235 miles away to be exact and it’s just as scary as it was last year. The scariest part was leaving you behind. It seems silly to write a letter to you, since technically you're not a "you", you're a structure. But the amount of memories, growth, and life lessons you hold within your walls makes you so much more to me than just a brick house with a red picket fence. 

I miss you every day. Some people call it homesickness, but it's a lot more complicated than that. Of course I miss my bed, my mom's cooking and all the other superficial things, but I also miss the laughter that would ricochet off your walls. I miss the barks of my two puppies and the stomping of my sister’s feet up your stairs. I miss the way your shower squeaks and loves to tease Dad because no matter how many times he tries to fix that pipe, the noise and leaks always come back. I miss the sounds of a family living within your walls, and although that still exists, being so far away makes it hard to remember.

I think what I miss the most is the consistent warm feeling you always gave me. I know that sounds kind of cheesy, but it’s this distinct feeling that is so hard to describe in exact words that the only way I can explain it is through examples. So, for example, I always knew when I came home from school I would walk in your door to my family sitting around the table eating dinner Mom cooked, I’d plop down in my spot and join right into the conversation. Or right before bed, Mom or Dad never failed to come into my room just to say “I love you” right before I went to sleep. It was little things that gave me warmth in your rooms.

I grew up within your walls, and watched my family grow up too. My dog spent all 11 years (and counting) of his life running around our backyard and barking his little heart out. I got in trouble for coloring on the walls and, later, for staying out past curfew. I went through my Hilary Duff stage which, in a few years, turned into all types of weird music phases. I watched my baby sister take her first steps in our basement. I learned how to study and work hard in school, how to be a good role model and older sister, how to rollerblade, how to love and to live. I remember graduating eighth grade and crying in your room because I was leaving a school I was at for 10 years. And then a few years later I graduated high school and cried because I was leaving you, the home I lived in for 14 years. I grew into the mold of the person I wanted to be, all within this home.

When I think about you, a huge lump in my throat starts to form because I know I won't permanently have you back. And it's hard. Although I know I can always go home, it’s been a tough transition from having you with me every day, to only a few months out of the year. I know that I've gone and left for college, but I can never express in enough words how much I owe you for raising and making me into someone I can be proud of. I can only hope to raise my own kids in a home just like you.

Love,

The little girl you helped build into a young adult