Logically I know a house is just a structure, but this house and the memories it holds are precious. I know memories will travel with me to my next destination, but this house - our home - will always be more to me than a structure.
We bought our home in the Fall of 2002. We'd seen a lot of different places, but knew instinctively this was the home for us. Right away we made a few changes, but it felt good. It just seemed to fit. In a little over a year, my feelings would change about our home, and I'd know for sure it was more than just a structure.
After we lost Ellie and Kate we weren't sure if we should or could stay in our house. There's no guide for parents who lose both of their children on the same day - who go from having a house full of life to an broken and quiet soul. There's no one to discuss the pros and cons with. Not many people feel comfortable handing out advice to bereaved parents.
We didn't know what to do - so we did nothing. Grieving is exhausting - just deciding what or if to eat was the biggest decision I was struggling with back then. Through the shock, through the numbness, and through the healing . . . we stayed. The same house, that just a few days prior was full of joy and laughter, was now unbearably quite. And yet, it was still so full of love and memories. . . . we stayed.
For months to come I would find little fingerprints on windows and doors. I would find little toys and "treasures" Ellie tucked away in some obscure place she alone was privy. As I would wander through the house at night in a grief-stricken fog, I could still see them sleeping in their beds. I could picture them playing with their toys and eating breakfast at the table. I wasn't ready to let those memories go. I wasn't willing to let someone else live in my house - the house where I played, cared for, and loved my girls. I was afraid the least little shift in my thinking, in my being would make their voices, their smiles, their spirit disappear from my memory.
I don't remember the exact moment or the conversation, but we decided to stay. Staying was going to be hard. Spring was coming. I knew it wouldn't be long before we'd hear children laughing and playing at the park behind our house. I needed something to drown out those sounds. I needed a distraction. We decided to stay, but needed to make our house different. We decided to remodel. The process was definitely stressful, but the distraction was helpful.
Four years have passed. Bedrooms once providing shelter and comfort to our little girls are now occupied by their siblings. Their brothers and sister - too young to understand now - will one day know their sisters. We'll help them understand there were two little souls, who came before them, that taught their mommy and daddy how to love bigger than they ever imagined. Davis, Meg and Kale remind us how fortunate we are to be parents. We are blessed to be able to provide them with a comfortable home and hearts full of love and hope.