807 A

*Here's a post I started in the summer. An ode of sorts to our apartment at 807 A.

We have lived in the little old apartment complex for the past almost 3 years of our lives. And for the most part it has been good to us.

This is the apartment where Jamo and I will have lived the first 3 years of our marriage, the place where we've gotten to really know each other. Like how Jamo talks constantly in his sleep; or how he will leave the room and turn up the volume on the tv if you are throwing up; the way he is ticklish while awake, but never when he sleeps; the way he claps his hands really fast when he gets excited.

This the apartment that Jameson spent most of his college career in. First going to the community colleg; and then upgrading to a the big boy school, UMSL. It's were he spent countless hour doing homework, while I sat and tried not to bug him in the other room. It was staying up with him while he pulls all nighters at the end of the semesters to try and finish papers and projects. It was sitting at home, pregnant and jealous, while he went abroad to Costa Rica. And it was that realization that all of it was about to end, that the end was in sight. And it's where he graduated.

This apartment is where I longed and longed to have a baby. But waiting, always waiting for the right time. Always knowing that that little baby would be my boy, my baby boy, my sweet baby James. And then it happened, in this apartment. Pregnant. And I waited while he grew. And I loved him as he grew, knowing him, never having met him. And I knew I couldn't bring this little child into this apartment.

This apartment, that was perfect for Jameson and I, was not perfect for the three of us. And so two weeks before my baby was born, we moved to the next town over and settled in this third floor apartment, with a room just for him.

But that silly old apartment was home. It's the place in my heart of the beginning of all things. Young, poor, in school, in love, playing house and loving everything. That was Brookmount 807A.