Years ago, as we prepared for our move to this sleepy little town a world away from our forever home, I asked a friend who was living here if he could recommend any team apartments for our family. He suggested this place. At the time, all we knew was that it was across the street from the train station and the grocery store.
It's hit or miss with team apartments and that's the way it is no matter where you go. We have lived in apartments I prefer to forget and we have lived in beautiful apartments that I never wanted to leave behind. But they all have one thing in common: most of the furnishings that fill the apartment don't belong to us. They belong to the team. They are things that other families have used and loved and left behind that we have inherited.
When we arrived, I literally dropped my bags, collapsed, and passed out on our bed, which at the time was covered in hot pink and blue paisley print sheets. Those had to go. The next morning I wandered through the apartment, checking everything out. The team had done their best (a great job, in my opinion) to give us everything we might need, and then some. Still, it was very um ... old-school German (is that a thing?). Curtains only an Oma could love. Fake plants everywhere. I promptly returned those to the team storage facility. Most of them, anyway. I kept a few because when I catch a glimpse of them as I enter or leave a room, they make me laugh and remind me of our first day here. The cutlery was a hodgepodge. No two plates were the same. None of the furniture matched. It was well loved, much of it on its last leg.
Three years in and it still isn't much to look at. There is little room for company. No bells
whistles. It is dated and nothing inside matches. It is humble, to say
the least. But Linden's earliest memories of home will be here. When we left the hospital last year, this is where we brought Calder. This is where our family found stability and comfort and love and ... each other.
After six years of living the hockey life, 'home' to me
isn't really a place anymore. It's a feeling. And here, I feel home.
Apartment Tour by Slidely Slideshow