GAIL WHITE Home is where my heart is, so buyer has to be just right

"What did she think of the place?" my husband asked after a prospective buyer left our home.
"It wasn't for her," I responded.
"Really?" he asked, a bit surprised at such a direct response. "Is that what she said?"
"Well, not exactly," I answered a bit sheepishly. "I told her it wasn't for her."
"You did what?!"
"Her children are all older," I justified. "Who would play in the little cubby hole in the family room?"
He stared at me with a look I had never seen before. I couldn't tell if he was mad or confused, if he thought I was wise or completely out of my mind.
Moving seemed like a great idea at first. We had found a house with several acres, a pool and a lake all at a price we couldn't pass up. It fit all the qualifications of our dreams. The children thought they had just found heaven.
Bittersweet emotions
But as I began packing all our belongings into boxes to move, I found myself filled with bittersweet emotions over leaving this house that has been our home for 10 years.
It started in the dining room, as I packed the china. A decade of Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners have been spent in this room. The first year, I had no clue what I was doing. My two brothers-in-law arrived at 5 a.m. to help me prepare the turkey. Now, I have holiday dinners down to a science. I grew up a lot in this dining room.
This dining room has watched my children grow up as well. My third son celebrated his first birthday surrounded by these walls. We sang "Happy Birthday" three times because he liked blowing out the candle so much. By the time he became tired of blowing, we had to scrape the icing off the top of the cake. One-year-olds blow more than air.
My bittersweet emotions continued as I packed the living room. We spent many cold winter evenings huddled around the fireplace in this room. There is a burn mark on the carpet to prove it.
These walls have heard many chapters of books, read aloud to the children. They have heard my deepest thoughts and prayers on those nights when sleep has eluded me. They have heard the laughter and tears of friends visiting for the evening or stopping by for tea in the afternoon.
Making his mark
As I packed the family room, I smiled for the first time at the French doors leading to the back yard. Soon after they were built, our dog scratched the wood, trying to get outside and play with the neighbor dog. The first time I saw the marks, I thought my heart had stopped. Now, they seemed to give the room character and I became a bit possessive. Those were our marks from our dog.
Even one of our bathrooms brought a feeling of melancholy to me. We remodeled this bath three times, and we still had to bring in a professional to fix it before we moved. This room has always been a sore reminder to my husband and me of our ineptitude at home improvement. Looking at it now, completely unrecognizable from the day we moved in, I feel proud of our accomplishment.
Tears flowed from my eyes as I packed David's bedroom. I brought David home from the hospital to this house. I still remember the day. Every child in the neighborhood came over to see him. They stared in awe at his little face and hands. He was a novelty.
And he still is. He has his own food cupboard at a neighbor's house. The second he walks through the door Mrs. Crider asks, "Are you hungry?" He heads for the cupboard to see what goodies she stocked for him.
I can't even think of leaving the neighbors of this home without crying. There is no way to calculate the value of good neighbors.
The older children of the neighborhood have all taken turns baby sitting my children. The younger ones seem more like an extension of our family.
Perfect family
So you see, I can't sell this house to just anybody. I have to sell my home to the perfect family who will create more memories within these walls and complete the neighborhood.
After all, Andrew had his first haircut in this back yard. ...
Robert stood at the end of the driveway and caught the school bus to go to his first day of kindergarten. ...
Phillip learned to ride a bike on this grass. ...
gwhite@vindy.com