I write this blog today with some sadness in my heart. Today my parents leave Alaska, their home for 18 years. As I've mentioned in a previous post, my dad has resigned at our wonderful home church First Baptist Church Eagle River. He plans to attend New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary in the Fall to earn a degree in Marriage and Family Couseling. I'm so excited about this new step in my parent's lives, and not to mention, thrilled that they will be living so much closer! However, I have admit that part of me is sad. Going "home" won't be quite the same anymore. Let me tell you a little bit about my home.
When I was seven years old, my family was living in North Carolina. When my parents announced the news that our family was moving to Alaska, I was pretty shocked. So far in my young life, my family had lived in 4 states: Texas, Colorado, Wisconsin, and North Carolina. So I was pretty used to moving long distances. Like any second grader, I was very sad to say goodbye to my friends, and I was a little concerned about moving such a long distance. To a kid in North Carolina, Alaska is pretty much a foreign country. I located Alaska on my United States map puzzle and was instantly confused. My parents spoke about snow and mountains, but the Alaska on my map was located somewhere southwest of California, next to Hawaii in the middle of the ocean! After a quick explanation, my dad confirmed that Alaska was actually not in the middle of the Atlantic but much farther north. After that every time I did that puzzle, I picked up the Alaska piece and placed it rightfully where it belonged on the carpet above the puzzle- somewhere northwest of Washington. Well after that I started to get worried. I mean, if Alaska is so far north that it can't even fit on the map, it may be a little too far north for me.
Weeks passed. Movers came.They boxed up my teddy bears and barbies, and we were off to the Last Frontier. Alaska was much better than I had imagined. For starters, it was breathtakingly beautiful. Each direction I turned displayed one amazing view after another. The small town we moved to was called Eagle River. Eagle River sits in a valley, with mountains in each direction. Over the years, each majestic mountain grew more familiar as I glanced at them each day, hiked them, camped in them, sledded down them, and enjoyed the wildlife that also calls Eagle River home. After a while, I took for granted the beauty around me. I began to forget that not everyone looks out their front window to a view that rivals even the best picture postcards. Not every kid can build snowforts large enough to house the entire neighborhood's children. Not every kid watches baby moose follow their mother across the backyard.
View from our front porch.
When we arrived in Eagle River, I was thrilled to discover that my parents had found a great big house for us to rent. It was fantastic. Five bedrooms. Three bathrooms. Two living rooms. A big backyard and a park down the street! When compared to my teeny, tiny bedroom previously shared with my baby sister, this was paradise. Since I was the oldest and feeling the most nervous about the big transition, my parents let me have my pick of the rooms. I chose a downstairs bedroom facing the backyard with a large walk-in closet. It was a good room and a great house. After living there for less than a year the landlord decided to sell, so my family moved to Laoana Circle, where we happily made memories in our equally fantastic but not quite so big rental. Three years later, my parents felt the need for a bigger place, so we began the process of buying a house. Amazingly, we discovered that our old house on First Street was up for sale, and we were proud to pack the boxes once again and head back to our home. I guess that house was just meant for us.
Our house
A few months ago when I heard the news that the house had sold, I couldn't help but feel a little sad. There are a lot of memories in that house. Biscuits and eggs on Saturday mornings. Family Game Nights around the dining room table. Words fail me when I try to describe the memories I think of when I think of that house. I can't say that I had a perfect childhood, no child does. But I can say that my childhood was just about as good as a kid could hope for. I had a loving and welcoming home. Even as a teenager, I liked to be there. (Most of the time!) I knew that when I got home from school, my mom would be waiting to hear about my day. I knew that if I had a problem, it could most likely be solved or at least sympathized with around the dinner table. I have a great family and countless happy memories.
My mom and dad said goodbye to Eagle River and the house on First Street today. I guess this is my way of saying goodbye too.
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