The start of a new story ...

The start of a new story is also the end of another one. It is saying goodbye to the place my aunt called Paradise, where we commemorated her life and celebrated her work. Where me and my sister grew up, it was our weekend getaway and our holiday retreat. Where our mom found peace and spent hours in the garden by trimming the hedges by hand. Where we rode our bikes up and down the street. Where we replayed the Wimbledon finals. Where my parents held lavish garden parties including our 18th and 21st birthday parties. Garden parties that are still the talk of the town until today. Oh sweet childhood memories.

It is also the place where me and Eddy mourned the death of our parents but also toasted to the birth of Lisa and Emmi. Where we looked forward to the blossom on our fruit trees in spring  and loved the turning of the leaves in autumn. Where we saw Lisa take her first steps and where she learned to ride her bike. Where Emmi sat quiet for hours playing with the dollhouses but cried if she needed to spend the night. Where we watched squirrels run up and down the trees. The place we loved in summer but hated in winter. The place where we dreamed of white beaches and booked trips to exotic destinations. 

The place were we received our friends and families from around the world. Where Lisa and Emmi chased butterflies for hours and spent afternoons in their little swimmingpool. The place where we laughed and cried.

It was the place we simply called home ...