We got the keys to our first house

Dear Delyara, Not a big house. Not a perfect house. But ours. For years we lived in rentals where every wall belonged to someone else’s caution. Don’t paint. Don’t drill. Don’t change this. Don’t hang that. We saved through birthdays, skipped trips, sold things, took extra shifts, argued about money, encouraged each other, and almost gave up more than once. Yesterday we stood in the empty front room holding the keys. My husband sat on the floor because there was no furniture yet, and I laughed because after everything, the room echoed like it belonged to strangers. Then our daughter ran from one end of the house to the other shouting, “This is ours, this is ours.” I think I will hear that sentence for the rest of my life.