Moving on

For years and years, this house has bee what I considered "home."
I only ever lived there for a few months when very small, but my grandparents lived there over sixty years. We lost my grandfather almost nine years ago. And my grandmother passed on about four years ago. And this last year, the house sold.
We no longer have any connection to that brick structure my grandfather put so much work and love into. It will never again host our family for get-togethers. It won't give us fun times on the swingset in the back or fresh veggies from the garden. It belongs to someone else now.

In fact, as of this month, we won't really have any family in Oklahoma anymore. My parents are moving back to Tennessee, and I'm thrilled to have them much closer than ten hours away. One hour sounds MUCH nicer, especially when there are kids in the backseat.
But it's bittersweet, too.
Because I love Oklahoma. We still have church family there who love us. And so many memories.
Moving on can be good, but it can also be hard. And I'm working to accept the fact that I'll probably never go back again. It's a strange thought.
Does it leave me "homeless?" No. I have a new home now. And new places to visit with new people to love. And, of course, my eternal home I work towards more every day.
But I'll probably always think of that house when I think of home anyway. Because not many other places in this world feel as much like it as that house did.
Have you had to let go of an earthly home? What were you most upset to leave behind? What parts have you replicated in your new home so that it feels more like that one?