I like variety, don't get me wrong. Music, food, routine. I even enjoy changing seasons and the new fun each holds, different from the one before it and the one to follow.
But change for me is like a cold wind in my heart.
We are moving. It's been a long goodbye. My husband started working an hour away back in July. And it will be so good to be together, in the same town where he can pop over for lunch, be home for dinner.
It's strange how empty and yet so full a house can feel. And I know it's just a house, but life moved in and stretched itself out, making itself at home in these rooms.
This is the place we have stripped off wallpaper and picked out paint colors. We've replaced gas lines and flooring. We've dug through earth, landscaped our yard, made a failed attempt at a garden.
We have welcomed traveling family and friends. We have stayed up late and unveiled hearts. We have had Boggle and Wii death matches here. Their kids have climbed our apple tree and made forts out of our couch cushions.
We brought our babies home from the hospital here. We have rocked and soothed them in these rooms. We have chased them down these halls. We have picnicked in this grass. We have walked and sidewalk-chalked this pavement. We have read bedtime stories. We have celebrated birthdays. We have laughed. We have cried. We have weathered storms here.
And next week, we turn in our keys and say farewell to this place.
It's sad. I'm sad. We leave family and friends. We leave known and comfortable.
We wave goodbye to a house, but not to a home. We wave hello to new...together. As a family. And so I'm happy, too. (We will be closer to my other sister, Jon's sister, and living in the same town as my brother and cousin. That's pretty sweet, right?)
Can I just leave you with a fragment of the life we have been blessed to know here?
And as we pack up our things and head off together as a family, we raise our glass to this place and the memories here.