A parade brought us back to our old neighborhood last night and for a moment the nostalgia left me speechless. We reconnected with our former neighbors and I answered their questions about our new house, all the while screaming inside my head, "I WANT TO HAVE SIDEWALKS AND A 2-STORY HOUSE WITH AN ATTACHED GARAGE AND FRONT PORCH WITH ROCKING CHAIRS ON IT AGAIN!". We parked in a friend's driveway across the street from our old house and I obnoxiously tried to look in the windows and stop feeling like someone was in OUR house who didn't belong there.
Bizarre, aren't I?
One memory in particular stuck out since it was a chilly night. Last year, the cast of Pollyanna had come over and we went Christmas caroling. We had so much fun and the neighbors were really moved by it, one man ran after us to thank us and say that it had made their night!
Yeah. That makes me sad. But, I need to take my own advice that I tell the girls when they miss our old house. It is alright to have good memories of living there, but God has more memories for us to make in our new house and neighborhood. I am reminded that He has a plan for us here.
1 comment:
NOT bizarre at all. Every time I go back to my old stomping grounds, I drive by the house. She let my gardens go to weed, she let my hostas overgrow and my gorgeous rosebushes are ruined. But then I remind myself. They aren't mine, they are hers and she paid for them. Not nearly as much as she could have, but she did.
And to encourage you, I still pray for the neighbors at our old house occasionally - those relationships mattered to us and therefore matter to God. You aren't bizarre at all. You just care very deeply and attach yourself to the things you care about. And I think that's awesome. I'm sure it makes you an awesome neighbor - I know it makes you a good friend and Mommy.
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