Moving into this house happened so quickly. I found it, emailed the agent, and we signed papers within a weeks time. We hadn’t even been inside, I just saw it and it’s surroundings, and I knew. This was the place. This was the place we would heal, grow, raise Rowan, and nurture Sloan’s memory. The house sits on a quiet, gated street, nestled on a hillside that overlooks the valley below it and the Mountain in the distance. I unpacked our things within days, needing desperately to feel settled. We did not keep many of the things and hardly any of the furniture that had taken up space in our apartment. If it wasn’t sentimental- it didn’t come with. We needed a fresh start, an atmosphere in our new home that was untainted by the things we’d seen and touched the day of his death. Do not confuse that with erasing all evidence of Sloan. He is everywhere in our new home, but in ways of our choosing. Not in the darkness of things tied to the trauma, but in happy keepsakes, beautiful handmade gifts, and photos of his sweet smile. This home is full of his light, there is not a single room that does not have some piece of him in it to nourish our souls and comfort our grief.