Tracing Friendships Through Floor Plans

It's all laid out in 3D.

Mar 17, 2025

Back in November, I bought a house and moved. I thought the process might break me.

And, honestly, it might have—if not for my friends.

It hit me this weekend, five months post-move, that walking through my townhouse from top to bottom allows me to trace the patterns of my friendships all through the floor plan.

There are the shower rods and curtains that Heather tediously hung, arms over her head as her shoulders ached. (Or so I imagine. She did not complain.) Heather also unpacked, sorted, and shelved two full bookcases of mostly hardbacks. I probably owe her a massage.

The walk-in closet is where Catherine unpacked and hung my professional wardrobe, arranging everything first by style (dresses, shirts, sweaters, pants), then length, and then color.

There’s the IKEA furniture that Caleb and Ephram assembled, having brought their own tools from home. The furniture they helped move from the garage to the third floor, up multiple flights of narrow stairs.

The bookcase Jason organized, sorting volumes first by genre, then author, then size—just the way I like it. He then unpacked and assembled a small desk and an office chair, setting up my desktop computer and tucking away all the cords and wires in a way I’ve never been able to accomplish.

The office furniture Danielle spent a precious Saturday morning helping me construct. (Correction—she did the bulk of the construction. I mostly made jokes and held the instructions upside down.) Not to mention the TV and area rug she passed along.

The guest room furniture Addy and Dan gave me that Dan worked hard against the clock on an overly warm afternoon to assemble (then partially disassemble, then reassemble) while Addy and I sat nearby, handing him tools and storytelling to pass the time.

The kitchen drawers and cabinets that Katie first wiped out and then meticulously lined. Ah, Katie—who took time out of her busy schedule of also moving that same week to show up with iced tea, a veggie tray, rolls of plastic drawer liner, her own scissors, and a T-square ruler. Once the lining was down, she and Emily and Hannah expertly unpacked, organized, and squared away the entire kitchen—plates, cups, cutlery, cookers, sets of mismatched mugs, and all.

The kitchen table and chairs The Other Ruth and Bryant helped me load into the back of their vehicle and move across town because my Ford Focus is too small to move almost anything of consequence. (This I have learned, with much embarrassment, through a series of Facebook Marketplace blunders I have not yet had the wherewithal to share with you.)

The rolling kitchen cart Lucy sat on the floor assembling with me while we laughed and rehashed decades-old memories.

The porch furniture Dee and Chuck spent a Sunday afternoon hauling across town, then problem-solving with some other friends to figure out how to get it in place when it wouldn’t quite fit through the sliding glass door onto the second-floor deck. (I believe a system of ropes was involved. Either that or they simply tossed it up from the ground. Whatever happened, I was convinced it would end in disaster and therefore could not watch.)

The matching lamps Hilary thrifted for me. The wingback chair, stool, and other items she helped me choose, haul home, and wrestle up the stairs. The way she made sure I had a set of matching glasses so my guests won’t have to drink out of bowls and mason jars.

The disassembled buffet table Jonah carried up to the first floor, unboxed, and helped piece together.

The couch, end table, and curtains Autumn and Zac helped assemble, haul across town, and/or hang. The many, many deliveries they received on my behalf and the heavy boxes of mostly books they ferried up the stairs during that first week of the rolling move while I was busy dealing with bat carcasses and driving back and forth from the health department because I thought I might have rabies. (Precious memories.)

The many, many items—including the treadmill—that Nathan, Dawn, and the Florida fam helped me get down the mountain and into place. The trailer Nathan “just so happened” to have with him the weekend he “just so happened” to be visiting while I was moving.

The thoughtful housewarming gifts Dawn selected.

Just really, all of it.

Step by step—room by room.

Everywhere I look in my new home, I see tangible reminders of love, support, and friendship.

I know I’ve forgotten someone. Overlooked a kindness, a gift, a blessing of time and energy. It’s honestly been my biggest concern in writing a post like this.

But fortunately, anyone I’ve overlooked will not stay overlooked for long.

Not with my actual floor plan standing in silent, daily testament to the love and care I’ve received from family and friends.