Before we moved to this house, the family before us had marked their history on their wall.
They didn't just pencil it in. Oh no, they carved their lives right into the wood. I found this fascinating. This was not to be painted over. This was the story of their lives, permanently etched into their walls of their home.
They were all height marks, as you see in many homes, but these were like none I had ever seen. There was the year their sons voice changed. Significant accomplishments, girlfriends, life stories. It was more than how they were growing upwards, it was how they were growing UP.
When they moved out and we moved in he cut that section of the wall right out. Brought it with him and placed it in his families mountain cabin. We go stay in that cabin one beautiful weekend out of every summer and watch as new memories are added to it every year.
I think it's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen.
When we moved in, we started doing the same, in the very same spot that their history was once etched.
It delights me to think of the stories our wall will someday hold.
The most noticeable so far, is how Evan has grown from a boy to a teen. The year he surpasses his mama in height, and how even at 13, he's still several inches shorter than a dear family friend was at 11.
As i sit here I think of the stories we've already missed or didn't think to record. Colin losing his first tooth. Kevin turning 30.
The most wonderful thing about this wall, to me, is the sense of permanence. After moving from apartment to apartment to townhome to townhome - here we are, finally. In the home where our children will grow to adults, where they will remember as home when they are on their own. Where we can tell the story of our lives on the walls.