I still drive by from time to time and hope that the people who live there cherish every corner of that house like did. Every spontaneous car ride, I coincidently end up on this street. Every time I drive my childhood friend home I subconsciously turn left as if its programmed into my brain. Although I am just driving by, I will always feel like I am driving home.

No matter how many days, months, or years pass I still get the same feeling every single time I see this house. It is almost as if I have been on an extremely long vacation. As if one day I will go home, type in the same garage code, throw my jacket in the same messy closet, go lay on my tan leather couches, open up the fridge to my childhood snacks and with all the time that has passed, that not one thing has changed. Sadly, I know that is impossible. Yet in quiet moments when I think of the times I spent in that house there is still a glimmer of hope that time has stood still on that acre of land. Even though I have become 7 years older and wiser, that this house still stands in 2013, like somehow on this property it is if time does not exist. The memories and friendships created in that home are the biggest blessings I have endured. From a building perspective, the things my parents wanted to fix were the things I cherished most. The unfinished basement where my sisters and I would put on shows, play ripstick tag for hours, and create a town layout with blue painters tape on the cement floor are the goofiest childhood memories, but moments that make me feel so simply happy.

Overtime I am sure different families will create amazing memories in that house and hopefully feel the love I felt all those years living under that roof. I hope that the children who grow up there can build cereal forts at the counter, play message in a bottle down the hallway upstairs, argue over capture the flag when someone went into territory that was controversially off-limits. All these things that I so dearly remember about that house. From a selfish perspective I wish I still lived there, I wish I still slept in my Lizzie Mcguire themed bedroom and brushed my teeth at the sink that I stained with pinky sparkly nail polish from Claire's, but part of me knows that time heals all wounds. I am aware that even though this house is the one thing I will constantly miss, it is also the one thing that has brought me some of my happiest moments.

To this house, thank you. Yes, I am aware how silly it is to thank an inanimate object, but it only feels right. Thank you for giving me a place to feel safe for 13 years of my life. Thank you for always having a sense of home for every single person who walked in the door. Thank you for all the Christmas mornings that felt so magical. Thank you for the imagination you created. Thank you for being a place to remember my most important blessings. Thank you for being my forever home.