Some things I thought while I chopped an onion.

This was mine and Chris's first house. It wasn't our first choice at first, but it should've been and by the time we moved I basically had to be pryed out of there with a crowbar. She was a beautiful little dollhouse, and we were so lucky to have known her. 

I miss our old place, more often than you would think. I miss watering my flowers in the morning and the way the light peaked through our wooden blinds and danced on our bedroom wall in the morning. I miss the way it smelled and the tennis ball that Chris hung from the garage ceiling so I knew how far to pull my cat in and the little greenhouse in the backyard with the stepping stone we wrote our names in. I miss the path I would walk around the block and the perfect view of the sunset out the kitchen window. 

We were only there four years but it has a pull on me that feels more like we were there for forty. Chris and I lived together for the first time in that house and Navi was born into this world in the middle of our bedroom (top window on the right). So I'm not sure if it's the house itself or the memories they were made there but I just miss it. I miss those times. I feel strange and a bit guilty to say that when the majority of "those times" were the years before babies, back when it was just the two of us, but it was a wonderful couple of years and I loved our simple little life. 

I was cooking dinner the other day, something that happens far too infrequently if I'm being totally honest, and something about the rhythmic chopping of the onions gave me a vivid flashback to a few short years ago when I was back in our old house prepping for dinner.

I remember Chris was on his way home from work, a late day. It was that time of year when there's frost on the grass in the morning and I had just got home from class a few hours ago. Outside it was dark but our yellow kitchen was warm and glowing and I had on two pairs of socks and I was chopping onions with five dogs underfoot. We had this little kitchen tv that was mounted under one of the cabinets and Seinfeld was on while the pasta sauce was bubbling. Always Seinfeld. Except when That 70's Show was on. I never really have the tv on anymore. He came home and the dogs about shook the walls with their excitement when he walked through the door. We kissed and ate and then did the dishes together and took turns asking the other about their day. That's it. 

Navis asked me for a napkin and I was brought back to the incredible beauty that is my current reality. And I chopped and I stirred and let tears bleed from my eyes without wiping them away- And I'm not quite sure if they were from the onions or the nostalgia. Probably a little bit of both. 


  1. I feel like my feel just landed on the floor after pulling my head out of the Pensieve.

    Beautiful home, beautiful memories made there.

  2. Such s beautiful memory to cherish. xo


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