We moved in on a cold, rainy October day in 1995. From that first day, it felt like home. Daniel had always dreamed of living on the water. I always dreamed of living in a house, having grown up in a rental apartment. So moving day was a dream come true for both of us.
That dream ended today. I had signed the papers in advance so I would not have to travel 300 miles to attend the closing. My name alone was on the documents. When I got word in the afternoon that the transaction was finally finished, I burst out crying.
In that way that God has of doing things for a reason, I was already back home in Chicago when Daniel died. The house was already on the market. Of course God knew I would not want to live alone in our dream house on the lake. Why things turned out like they did - why I ended up owning the house for three more long years - I don't know.
The past week was stressful. A lot could have gone wrong, and despite knowing that it was all in God's hands I lost sleep over it. But when I woke up this morning I was flooded with memories of our time there - mostly good, a few not so good. But overall it was a lovely six years that I am very grateful for. In a way, it will always be our house.
But soon, maybe tomorrow, a new family will move in. I haven't met them, but I am told it was their dream to live on a lake.
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