I wanted to do a short tribute to the room I grew up in. I'm up here in Idaho staying at my parents for the weekend for the first time that my old room will be empty most likely never to be filled again. My parents bought this house back in the 70's and they have lived here for over 40 years. During that time they raised 9 kids in this home without a dryer and a wood burning stove as their only source of heat. The house has survived a couple of fires and at least 2 earthquakes that I know of. Last December my youngest brother got married and just 2 weeks ago the last sibling was married in the Logan temple. I've been finding myself reminiscing around my old 400 (estimated) square foot room that once housed 6 boys at one time. I looked at the ceiling and noticed a sad tale of how we almost lost this house. Water stains littered the ceiling with a story of sadness and gladness that the good lord spared our house from a fire for years to come. Our room never had a door. After I moved out my brothers did eventually put in a curtain. Just some fyi.
I sat up there all alone by myself this last Sunday staring at the doorway. This room is almost sacred to me. Testimonies were born in that room. 6 missionaries left through that doorway to return 2 years later. I being the only one who didn't serve. All 7 of us left through that doorway to finally say goodbye. Wether it was for college or to get married. This last month my younger brother was the last to step out of that bedroom to do just that. I wonder if he sat down for a moment and thought about all the memories we had in that room. The talks late into the night. Or getting ready for school. The excitement we felt on Christmas morning or the bone chilling nights. The sleepless night after our first kiss or getting over heartbreak are just a few of mine that I will cherish. Goodbye old room. May I never forget all the memories you have produced for me and my family.
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