All growing up I heard the stories. My mother and father got married without a dime to their name. They lived in a tiny shoebox apartment. One month after tithing, bills, and all the rest they were left with 89 cents. Which in ancient history could buy you one milkshake. So for date night they got one milkshake and shared.
As my sisters got married and moved into temporary living spaces which of course came with complaints my mom would tell the story of the shoebox apartment a lot. "My whole apartment could fit in your living room!" she would say. And then she would explain to them that you don't need a whole lot of space at first.
And so as I walked my mother into my first married shoebox apartment I was expecting the usual rundown. Small apartment, no space, 89 cent milkshake, happy memories, be grateful. But to my surprise she looked around and said "This is smaller than the first apartment your dad and I lived in."
(There was probably a better time to take this picture... but here we are mid move)
We have been here since June. I will admit at first trying to come up with a system to fit everything and still be functional was hard. But we got it down. Made it all work out. We even found a way to fit a Christmas tree in here. We have had a family of four stay with us! It's a good thing we are all really good friends.
I wasn't expecting to be a sad when it came time to leave. But as I have packed up our things and the place is starting to look quite empty, I can't help but think how good this little apartment has been to us. Over the months we transformed it from shoebox to home. And I'm going to miss ending our days and starting our mornings here.
I realize now my mom doesn't tell the story of 89 cents with remorse. She loves those memories, she loved that shoebox apartment. Now I have a story. Some day I'll brag to my own children. "You should have seen the size of the place where your dad and I first lived. It was smaller than a shoebox."
