I knew this day would come. The #emptynest syndrome would catch up to us. The three rooms that Tim and I now hang out in have basically become a large apartment.
I LOVE our house. It is just the right size. Cozy, but big enough to give everyone plenty of space and privacy.
It meanders, so you can always find a sunny spot to hide.
When the girls were at home, we all hung out in our kitchen and family room. Until they started high school and disappeared into their bedrooms, never to be seen again!
I have put our house through the paces the past 14 years, updating almost every single room in some way. So, of course, now that we are putting it on the market – I could stay forever.
We moved to Rye when the girls were in 3rd and 5th grade. I knew nothing about our neighborhood or elementary school, nothing! We blew into town from Charlotte, North Carolina the night before the girls started school and wandered down to Milton Elementary the next morning.
Emily in 5th grade, Grace in 3rd. They will be SO happy I found these pictures!
Turns out, we bought a house in a coveted neighborhood, with a 2 minute walk to the cutest brick elementary school you have ever seen.
The girls found a pack of friends on our street and walked to school with them every morning. I would trail behind with our new dachshund puppy and other moms who soon became close friends.
Years of birthday parties, squash dinners, rehearsals for the Parson Street Players, sleepovers, family holidays, cocktail parties in our back yard, dinner club gatherings and friends wandering in and out are embedded in these walls. I wish I could squeeze out all the memories and take them with me.
We just repainted the kitchen, which meant painting over the girls height chart we penciled on the wall every year. Up until then, Tim and I have been laser focused on cleaning, painting, staging and getting the house in top shape for the next family. I have kept the emotional part of leaving at bay.
I found an entire world of American Girl dolls in the storage space in our guest room this week, that I dismantled and packed away. It’s hard to believe we have a daughter who has lived in NYC for two years and another one who is graduating from college in June. It feels like they were just on the floor playing with these colonial ladies.
I am paying close attention to spring at our house this year. Marveling at the magnolia in the front yard. Appreciating the peonies I have carefully planted. Making a conscience effort to lounge in our gorgeous back yard on sunny days. Walking though Playland Park and out to the end of Milton Point to gaze at the beautiful water views.
This house will make another family very happy – we are sad to leave. But it is time for someone else with kids to run through these halls and up Fairway Avenue.
I remember one February, we had almost two feet of snowfall on a single Saturday. Tim and I sent an email to all of our neighbors and anyone within walking distance to come over for cocktails and anything else we could scrounge up in our refrigerator to eat that night. We had a packed house of snowy people – drinking, laughing and eating frozen pizza. We will miss you 85 Fairway.
the wry home