if these walls could talk they would remember two short weeks of trying before a positive test and skeptical husband shocked in the front yard. they would remember talks of pale pink or bold blue and finally compromising on yet another shade of brown. they'd whisper about picking a strong, modern, but classic, crib, thrift storing for the perfect shelf trinkets and eventually finding the perfect j-a-y blocks forming a strong, sentimental name.
if these walls could talk they'd find a scared mom-to-be crying into the late hours worrying about a damaged heart. they'd hear the prayers of two terrified parents hoping for the best, but being devestated by the worst. yes, if they could talk, they would shout the good news that a heart had been healed, faith restored and a baby born.
they would remember the colicy first few months, the hard first days back at work, the precious summer days, the crawls on the hard woods and the splashes and giggles echoing from a cast iron tub down a cold hallway. they would worry about rashes, turned ankles and late first steps, but rejoice in requests for milk, bubbles on the porch, doggies in the yard, balls on the steps, toys in daddy's boots, and a for sale sign in the front yard where it all began.
the time has come. it's our turn to move from these walls into newer, cleaner, bigger walls. i'm sad to leave the memories, but know there are so many more to come. i hope i never forget this old house.
