my family moved into the house my parents live in about 28 years ago. it is located in hoover, alabama - just south of birmingham. it sits up on a hill (which my dad has always hated to mow) and has azalea bushes in the front. the backyard overlooks the driveway which is home to the basketball goal that i spent countless hours practicing on. it has 4 bedrooms and one bathroom (i don't know how we survived!) upstairs. downstairs there is a den, kitchen, living room, dining room, guest room, and bathroom. we also had a basement that at one point had a very cool playroom in it. i always felt it was perfect for us.

i loved the house growing up. every thanksgiving and christmas of my life i've spent in that house. since i went away to school at auburn, it has been a constant, consistent place to come back to. there have been changes over the years, but never too much at once. so many of my memories involve that house.

through the years my parents have made comments about wanting to move, being tired of the hill, needing a bigger kitchen, etc. i just always dismissed their comments. they wouldn't really move. they couldn't. the cosmos wouldn't allow. things would somehow be off if that house wasn't ours. recently, my parents mentioned it again and again i just blew it off. i got a call on saturday from dad. he said they were working on the house and he had questions about some of my stuff that is still there. i think they are really serious this time. i have some very mixed feelings about that. i feel like so much of who i am is bound up in that house. it is my home. but, to be fair, i don't live there anymore and i don't have to mow the lawn. still, how are they going to fit all of us during the holidays? i'm sure they'll figure it out. other than my emotional attachment to the place, i'm excited for my parents. it could be kind of exciting!