Packing Up

....me this time.

There's a divot in the hallway wall, about half way up at about kid shoulder level. I know GG put it there, not because I saw her do it, but because many times, as she walked by it, she rubbed it gently with her pinky finger, looking up at me as though willing me to ask how it got there. I never did ask, but I haven't since walked by without wondering how she is.

There is not a speck of this house that doesn't make me think of at least one kid.  I remember who I bought glow-in-the-dark stars for and why. Sass picked out the pink closet knobs as a reward for tolerating the mess that was our house when the floors were redone.  The light switch extender was bought when Sister couldn't reach the light in the middle of the night. The growth chart, marking entries and exits of 22 kids and sometimes their friends, has officially been packed away. I know where the hiding spots for scared kids were, the tantruming spots of my best fit throwers, and could probably point to every corner of this house that has been vomited in. The spot by the front door that Curly stored the few belongings he came with, sure that someone was coming to get him again any minute now, is cleaned out. The wall of everyone's photos is taken down, frames stacked in a box waiting to be hung again. The sandbox, a favorite spot for the United Nations, is cleared of every shovel and bucket collected over the years.

So here I go, packing up as many sippy cups, crayons and stickers as I have memories deep in my heart. Looking forward to a new space for the next kid, however many may follow over the years, and all the memories we'll all create.