Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Moving to Tears

What I should be doing right now: packing. What I am doing right now: blogging. Why? Because I am on schedule so far and know that the next three weeks are going to be crazy, busy and tiring. Writing calms me, so here I sit. Just for a little while.

We spent the last year and a half preparing our house to go on the market. Silly looking back that we never got to some of those projects sooner so that we could have enjoyed our home in the condition it is now for a little longer. But, isn't that the way it goes? You come in with big plans and grand ideas only to learn a little about your self along the way while life and responsibilities consume you all the while. Yeah, I know we aren't the only ones. We live and we learn.

We learned that we are not fixer-upper kind of people. When we purchased this home, our first, eleven years ago, we were 21 and 24 years old. Feels so long ago and went by in a flash at the same time. We were so young. I remember the excitement and joy and feelings of pride that we were actually homeowners and had something that was ours to call home. Our first real and large purchase together as a couple. I remember getting the keys at closing, after getting hand cramps from the ridiculous number of signatures we had just done, and driving to our new home as quickly as legally possible. We slept on the floor that night, camped out in what became the dining room, happy as clams, just the two of us.

We became a family here. We were able to give my two amazing boys from a previous relationship a normal, stable and loving place to call home. This house is where our real lives began together, the four of us. My husband built deeper relationships with my boys in this house. We got a dog and named her Lucy. (And two cats within the following couple years) The boys were 3 and 4 back then and they have grown so much here; physically, mentally, socially and every other way possible. We have had good times and bad here but no regrets to speak of. I am so attached to this house, as if it too were a part of the family.

I fell in love with my husband, again and again, a hundred times over in this very house. We have laughed together, cried together, had deep and meaningful conversations in almost every room. We have grown together, discovered more and more about each other and made serious life decisions here. He asked me to marry him in this very kitchen. I, obviously, said yes. I planned our wedding here; hand made invitations at the coffee table, filled favor boxes with my boys in the booth, meticulously placed every flower into place with my own two hands and sat at the computer with my soon to be husband for hours burning a large pile of CDs with carefully chosen songs to use as our programs. The limo picked us up in this driveway to begin our honeymoon. So much love has happened here.

I conceived my three younger children in this house. I found out I was pregnant in these bathrooms. I told my husband we were expecting within these walls. I ate so much food and felt the babies kick me a million times while living here. I sat in this living room during the early signs of labor, waiting patiently to go to the hospital, to meet them and bring them bring them home.

We have celebrated countless holidays, birthdays, family gatherings and momentous occasions in this house. I have cooked many many meals and desserts in my kitchen. I could not even begin to estimate the number of people who have been fed here. One of the ways I show love and appreciation is through my cooking and there has been a lot of that. A lot is probably a bit of an understatement.

Music has been made here. Many a local musician and friend has rocked these cellar walls. Life lasting friendships have been formed here, many over music.

There has been a tremendous amount of joy while living here. There has also been a significant amount of heartache. I would not change anything from the past and I am going to be so very sad to leave this home, to let it go. At the same time, there are a couple of things that I hope to leave behind and let go of as we take the next big step of our lives and move on to our next home. The next home that we plan to stay in forever. The next home that, many years from now, our grandkids will come to visit.

It is going to be different in so many ways. It is bigger and better for us as a family and knowing how much we need it makes the letting go a little easier. I know that I am going to cry when we leave our current house in just over two weeks (in fact, I already did a little crying just writing these words). I will probably cry the night before we move while we are camping out on the floor one last time, this time with the teens, so we can all say goodbye to the unique little blue house that has been a part of our lives for so very long and served us so well. I also know that I am going to cry when we walk into our new home. The home that we have worked so hard to get to. The home we wished so hard that we could give to our children. The home that is going to change our lives for the better in so many ways, but we will get into all of that another day. It will be different and the same.

We are the same. We will continue to grow as a couple, as people and as a family. We will continue to love, laugh and cry. I will continue to feed the masses. We will continue on with our lives from a couple miles away. I am looking forward to this new chapter and adventure of our lives. I am going to try to keep my chin up as I go pack up and begin to let go of this place I call home. First, I will go stuff my pockets full of Kleenex.

1 comment:

  1. So beautiful, my friend. And so comforting to me today. Thank you for sharing. Your heart is lovely. Big hugs.