The end of a chapter.
11 Oct
Well, it’s really happening. Tonight is the last night I will ever spend in our house in Newnan. God willing, Tuesday it will belong to someone else.
On one hand, we’ve been talking about the move for nearly a year. It took the girls & me a while to get used to the idea, and seeing the “For Sale” sign for the first time last Thanksgiving was a bit painful. We’ve had plenty of time to get over the fact that we’re moving, and there’s part of me that’s ready for it all to be done. But I’m not sure that the reality of everything has completely set in.
This house means a lot to our family. I remember going through books and books of house plans, trying to find the perfect design. Then we saw exactly what we wanted being built in Peachtree City. Before I knew it, we had broken ground on our version of it in Newnan.
I even helped build the house…as much as a 13 year old kid in his awkward stage could. I carved my name in the foundation, helped Geraldo build the rock walls, and even caught a framing error that nearly screwed up our roof. (Duck, the framer, did get his revenge by making fun of the shape of my fish pond, but I’ll save that story for another day.)
I guess what I’m trying to say is that we have a lot of memories tied to this house. But the best memories aren’t about the house. The greatest memories only took place here…they’re the countless weekends we sat around the living room laughing. They’re the holiday gatherings with friends, mom’s amazing meals, and late night discussions with Anna & Caroline on the back porch.
Sure, it’s a bit trite, but it isn’t the house that makes the family. It’s the family that makes it a home. So it doesn’t matter where mom & dad end up living. I look forward to being able to get together as a family and make even better memories for years to come.

A few weeks ago we started reminiscing about all the crazy things we made you do when we were kids. There were some pretty ridiculous things, and you never even complained once.
Or when I played roller hockey and you’d have to drive us to Forest Park, then sit there and wait so you could drive us back home. The worst was when I got into making lanyards, and you had to buy all that lanyard stuff through some mail order catalog. Sorry about that.
And no matter how many times Goob made you take her socks off and put them back on because they just didn’t feel right, you lovingly obliged.












More fun floats..

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