I woke up this morning feeling a bit out of sorts about our impeding move. Even though I’m excited to chase our dream, admittedly, I have been worried about moving and leaving the house I have grown to love.
This is the home my dog of 14 years died in. This is the house our son turned from a toddler to a boy in. This is the house we brought our daughter home to from the hospital when she was born. We uncovered stained glass windows and redid hardwood floors here. We’ve celebrated holidays and milestones in her rooms and on her big front porch. We’ve mourned a death here and the loss of false friends. We’ve planted bushes and vines and flowers and waited as they bloomed in the spring.
This has been our home, one we’ve grown into, cried and rejoiced in. Truth be told: it’s hard to leave it. Even if a change is a good one, sometimes, it’s just not easy.
Early this morning, I was making my daughter a waffle and we were listening to music. Randomly and rather serendipitously, “Home” by Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros came on. Continue Reading