Indiana? So you’re farmers, right? Do you grow corn?

I get that all the time when people ask me where I’m from. But rather than associate with a stereotype, my parents decided to switch it up and settle the family next to a lake, not a farm. And my adolescent years have been irreplaceably beautiful because of it.

I’ve lived in the same house my entire life. Through thick and thin, it actually grew with me. We remodeled, refurnished, and rediscovered the beauties of our home, but it’s always been the Mazur sanctuary.

When I think of home, I think of my house on the lake. At some point in my life, I’m sure this will change; but right now, it’s the place closest to my heart. Whether lying in the grassy backyard, running around the neighborhood, or sitting at the edge of the pier watching the sun set on the water, the memories I’ve made, and keep making, are what continue to bring me home.

Some of the most life-changing news came a few years ago, when I found out we were selling our house. The place I thought I’d always be able to return to was eventually going to be sold to some stranger. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to get over it.

I spent so many days and nights with my older sister after we got the news, and we were both torn up about it. We talked, laughed, and cried as we reminisced on what we’d miss most about moving. We somehow grew closer than we already were, and eventually, something hit me. The memories I was making were what I knew I could return to in my mind, but I didn’t necessarily need the physical place to feel at home anymore.

We were all getting older: I was heading to college, and my two older siblings had already been in college for years. Our family was changing, and so were we. It was time. I grew up in this house, but that doesn’t mean I would want to deprive another family of growing up here. I’m not the best at letting go, but I learned to accept that all good things come to an end.

I’ve been spending the past couple months helping my dad prepare the house for showings and advertising to the public. We created a website and posted an ad in the Chicago Tribune, and everything started to become real.

I know that memories can be made wherever we go, and I’ll always be able to look back fondly on the ones I made at 326 Oak Drive.

 –article by LINDSEY MAZUR

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