914 E. 625 S.

This is a tough post for me to write.  Seeing these simple pictures that I took just before we left Layton makes my heart hurt and eyes tear up. 

 

It's been an emotional summer.  We said goodbye to my parent's Layton home in July.  We knew it was coming and had a long time to digest and think about what that meant, but the final day was still difficult and oh so sad.  I am grateful that I had that last day to help Mom finish up cleaning the house and get it ready for the new owners that would come that evening.  I knew it was a lot harder for her and I hope that our continual assurance that all would be well helped her say goodbye. 

 

So many memories in this house.  I remember moving in.  It was April of my fifth grade year.  We moved from small town Wyoming to this seemingly huge house in a "big city".  I remember not being able to fall asleep very fast (which is very strange for me) because I could hear the train at night and then the occasional jet from Hill Air Force Base. 

The memory that kept flooding back to me as I swept the floors of the house that last day was of my sixteenth birthday.  It wasn't anything incredible.  No big party or anything.  I had been to basketball practice after school and was still in my sweaty clothes and a pony tail.  I remember I got my letterman jacket that year and how excited I was to wear it and show it off.  We just had cake and ice cream as a family.....simple, but memorable. 

I remember during that same era, Bryan and I had the rooms downstairs and every morning he would make me late for school.  He was a senior and I was a sophomore.  I was always soooo worried about being tardy and getting a "U" and he would mosey from task to task in no hurry at all.  I remember standing at the top of the stairs begging him and crying for him to please hurry.   I ended up getting a "U" in my first period that semester and almost didn't get to go on the choir trip to California, but he went and begged the teacher to forgive a couple tardies for me. 

It was also thanks to Bryan and our sharing of the basement that I learned the words to many Led Zepplin and Def Lepard songs.  I was grateful for this on more than one date when I started dating in college.  I may have impressed a few boys with my knowledge. 

I remember many times, running around the kitchen table in total and complete terror, trying to escape Bryan's wrath after I called him "Pizza Face" or something super mean. 

There were many mornings when I would wait for Heidi to leave for high school so that I could sneak into her room and "borrow" a shirt to wear that day. 

 



Many of my most precious of memories in this home start with a long, 12 hour drive from California with my kids.  As we would get off the freeway and enter the neighborhood, my kids would recognize where we were and yell excitedly, "We're almost there!  We're almost there!"  I would always be exhausted and relieved that we made it.  The kids would run up the porch stairs and into the house as I gathered a few things from the van.  Mom and Dad would get their hugs from the kids and then come out to hug and help me.  Just knowing I was "home" brought so much peace and excitement for the couple weeks ahead with my family. 

There was the 6 months we spent there when Jason was deployed.  Beth and Jason lived close by and entertained me and helped me with my kids.  I can still hear Jason Herman upstairs putting Graham and Lucy to bed while I got to chat with Beth and Mom in the living room.  We played games at the table and ate lots of treats while watching movies.  It was a tough time, but a happy time, too. 

I picture us on Christmas Eve all jammed into the living room as we watch the grandkids act out the Nativity.  Super chaotic, but the Spirit was always so strong as we sang "Silent Night" or listened to Dad sing, "O Holy Night". 

Blaine made many batches of no bake cookies (Fudgies) for us in this kitchen.  Even after J and I were married, we came home most weekends to do laundry and have dinner in this kitchen with the family.  I picture Mom making cinnamon rolls days before Christmas or cheesy potatoes for a Sunday dinner.  I see five or six of the grandkids sitting on the stools waiting for Grandpa's waffles. 

There are so many memories, but what I am most grateful for our the feelings that I have when I think of this "home" that my parents created for me.  I felt safe.  I felt like my complete self and completely loved.  During the tough junior high years and even after leaving for school and marriage, I always felt most at ease when I was there.  I hope I am creating a safe, happy place like this for my kids.  I will miss our place at 914 East 625 South.