Made an impromptu trek back to New Hampshire to say goodbye to my childhood home. It was a good home. The best home. It was our home.
I skinned my knees on the sidewalk, played tag with my friends in the yard, argued with my sibling in the upstairs hallway, and was punished and loved by my parents everywhere within its walls. I remember sitting on the porch with my father to watch every meteor shower and lightning storm. How my mother would blast OutKast and U2 from the stereo while cooking. How bright it would get in my room.
The warmth of the NH sun is one of the first things I held dearly about this home, or what I believed it to be.
This home saw it all - the laughter, the sickness, the tears, the countless BBQs and family gatherings. This was the center of my world for my young adult life. It rooted and grounded me, but also gave me the courage to grow and expand. To seek new roots. It’s so much a part of the reason why I now live in NYC.
And so on Sunday morning, I laced up my sneakers the way I have done so many times before and I ran the same 3+ mile loop I have nearly every day growing up. I took this photo, stood silently and felt gratitude for the sun that warmed my cheeks. For the tiny places in this world that we get to call our own - even for a finite time.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Goodbye.