Goodbye To Our First Home

Dearest home,

Back in February of 2016, my fiancé Ben and I walked into a home in Dacula, Georgia. My hometown. My safe haven. 

The bedrooms were empty. The walls were scarce. But the house . . . it radiated possibility. A future filled with potential laughs and parties and memories and kids. A place where we could build our life. Start our life. 

So, that warm day in February, Ben and I held hands in the living room and sat on the floor, backs against the wall. We peered at those empty walls and echoing corridors. 

From them came dreams of togetherness. Dreams of growth and love and wonder. As we clasped hands and prayed over this potential home, our excitement and hope grew about the memories we’d make in this place. 

And just as we prayed, memories were made. For our first six years of marriage, we shared meals. Holidays. Success. Joys. Surprises. Guests. I’m proud to say more than one pop of bubbly has spewed against our pale ceilings. And Lord knows, more than one unforgettable night has etched itself within those gray walls. 

And I’m not sentimental. Not with homes, anyway. But today, as we sit side by side on that same living room floor . . . hands, walls, and hearts a little more scuffed than they were in 2016 . . . I honestly have nothing more to say to her than ‘goodbye.’

Goodbye, Home.

Your light and possibility brought endless hope, excitement, and fun to me. For that, I am endlessly grateful. Thank you. 

Your walls were strong enough to embrace every blow, disappointment, and cry. For that, I’m endlessly indebted. Thank you. 

Your flexibility was open enough to take in every friend, animal, and situation. For that, I’m endlessly happy. Thank you. 

You hosted my loved ones with comfort and grace and sincerity. You welcomed me inside with consistency and familiarity. 

One that you can only get from home. 

Drawing of Home

And in ways, I see now I’m leaving you haunted. Haunted with the dark memories, heartbreaking conversations, and hopeless moments. But I think you know us better than that. 

Though not every moment was scattered with laughs, I am confident that every moment was drenched with honesty. While not every party was a smashing hit, I know every party left someone encouraged. And while our home was not filled with kids of our own, it graced the presence of several remarkable little ones that we’ve come to know and love with all our hearts. 

What more can you ask of a home? 

So, old friend. I say goodbye. 

And I don’t extend this adieu in sadness or anger or even relief. Rather, I say goodbye knowing it’s simply right. And it’s time. And we’ve each served the right purpose for our time together. 

You have held me in every version of “me.” For that, I’m endlessly proud. Because as life goes on, and I go on, I’ll always remember the house that built me. 

So long, Wilkinson Court. 

All my love, 



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