Our First Home.

I wrote this post weeks ago but I'm a bit superstitious so I didn't want to post it until it was official...so here is the big news...

Our home in Benton has SOLD!!! WAHOO! After sitting on the market for roughly about 8 months, we could not be happier that we have an accepted offer on our Arkansas home. As of yesterday, it is closed, done, official, sign on the dotted line, OVER.

It was never our intention to own two homes in different states especially when my husband is totally changing careers. But God had a plan to get us down to Ruston quickly so we listened. Provided the inspection process goes well, we will close on that house in one month. You know what that means, right? We will be down to only ONE house payment! Hallelujah! Praise Jesus! 

While we were in Little Rock this weekend, we went by our old home one last time. We walked around sharing all the memories the two of us made in our first home. It was definitely a bittersweet moment. Buie even pointed out where the dogs would run over and over along the same path wearing a trail into the grass...the trail was gone and the grass had grown back. It was like the dogs had never even been there at all. When he said those words out loud, I got a gut wrenching ache in my belly because it pained me to even think about losing all of the wonderful memories made in that home. It saddened me think that the future residents of this home will always just refer to us as the future owners. They might even complain about the chipped paint and the nails we left in the walls. They won't know the wonderful friends that enjoyed a burger on the back patio or the countless foster animals who played in our backyard. 

This was the home we brought Scooter home to and later Charlie. This was the home where Buie and I buried George around the side of the house. I will never forget seeing the rare moment of my husband crying as he dug a hole and placed his body, still warm and slowing growing stiff, down in the ground. As we walked around the home, Buie and I said goodbye and looked at the spot where he is buried. The next owners won't know where he is buried because of the ivy that has now grown over the grave, but we will always know. 

If a house had a memory, what would it remember the most about us living there for four years, I wonder? That house might not remember us but we will never forget it. 

It was a wonderful first home.