Moving from a house I had lived in for 11 years wasn’t going to be a tragedy. I was going to get my own room; we were going to be in walking distance to our church and downtown. We were moving in with my grandma and grandpa. It was going to be great. Sure we’d lose the awesome backyard with a gigantic sledding hill and woods filled with trees and salamanders, and maybe we would miss bushes and bushes of blackberries and raspberries, but hey, I get my own room and easy access to G&D’s.

The time was getting nearer and I was getting excited; I packed all my junk into boxes and took them over to our new house. Pretty soon, our old house was completely empty except for a few curtain rods and their curtains. We all as a family went back to our house for the very last time; we all sat on the floor because all the furniture was gone.

We just sat there. And looked. Looked at everything. We watched our dog run up and down the hallway. He loved doing that.

I closed my eyes and imagined that everything was like before, when we weren’t going to move. I can hear the dishwasher running at night when all but one of the lights are off. I can feel the way the house was during Christmas time with the tree lit up with the front porch lights on so you can see the big, soft flakes falling heavily on the ground.

I can remember all those summer days picking blackberries or making “acorn soup” in our gigantic sandbox.

That gave me creativity.

I remember hunting for salamanders and picking hundreds of blackberries.

That gave me persistence.

We used to have Amazing Races with our neighbors and make traps to catch mice.

That made me competitive and clever.

I remember hours of fort playing in the living room. My brother and I would sit in there while our dad would watch President Bush on the TV. Back then when things like that didn’t even make me think twice.

That gave me innocence.

I remember watching my dad and brother play Zelda until midnight. Which made me a night owl. And when it stormed, my dad would take me outside on the porch to watch it.

That gave me courage.

I open my eyes and I’m almost surprised to see the furniture gone and everyone sitting on the well-known tan carpet. I want to stay right here in my house. Where I grew up, where I became me.

But that time is up. I’ve got some more growing up to do somewhere else. I will never forget those incredible memories and I know without a doubt they helped me become who I am today.