It's Our Turn.

I remember when our neighbors across the street fell on hard times. Jen had to get a job, something she really didn't want to do because she had a toddler at home that she wanted to spend time with. I remember how she cried on my front porch over how unfair it was. How cheated she felt.

I remember a hot summer morning, not so long after that conversation with Jen, when Caeden and I were sitting outside on the driveway. We were blowing bubbles at 8 am because he'd been up for 3 hours already and we had run out of things to do inside. I remember Jen's garage door opening up and her SUV pulling out. She was on her way to work. I remember waving to her as she passed by our house ... and I remember the hard look on her face.

I will never forget thinking, "I am so glad that isn't me," as I watched Caeden catch the bubbles I blew in the air.

The truth is, we all take a turn. None of us will remain untouched. No matter how charmed our life, no matter how we think we have everything figured out. Planned. Accounted for.

This afternoon we have a Realtor coming to the house. We're selling during the absolute worst time ever. We'll lose a lot of what we have worked for over these 15 years together. We're doing it because we need to be closer to Rapid City. We're doing it, knowing a home is most certainly not a house. Not an address. A home is not contingent on granite, on square footage, on a backyard.

Home might be a hotel room in Houston. Or perhaps one of Mom and Dad's spare bedrooms. A rental in Rapid. As long as we're together, home is anywhere.

But.

I just hope whoever calls my house "home" appreciates the love that went into painting Claire's room. That they enjoy the gorgeous roses that thrive in the backyard. That they care for the hardwood cherry floors that make this house amazing.

And. I hope they don't take any of it for granted.