Moving Forward

Sometimes moving forward in life isn't easy. Even when it's something you want to do. Even when it's a good move. Even when it's the next logical step. Sometimes it's just hard and sad anyway.

And that's ok. It's all a part of this human experience we're having together.

This was my experience today.

The situation is a move. Over the past several weeks, my husband and I have been moving into our new home. Doing repairs, updates, taking carloads of stuff every trip, etc. Then the "big" moving day came last weekend. That's when we finally started staying here.

You'd think all of THAT would have triggered my emotional body to know I am changing residences, but didn't apparently didn't fully sink in. Until today.

Today I met with the people who will be renting out my previous home. We decided to rent it, as opposed to selling it, and fortunately, were able to do that.

All this week I had been cleaning that house, now that all our stuff was finally out of it. And I have to say, I did NOT enjoy the cleaning!

But today when I showed up (the renters weren't there yet), I was overcome by emotion. While it's still "my" house, legally, I no longer live there. I'll no longer park my car in the driveway.

As I walked up to the front door, I couldn't help but notice the deafening silence. I would no longer hear my dogs barking to greet me arriving home there.

As I opened the door, the emptiness of the place brought even more tears to my eyes. No more sitting in that living room, watching out the front window. "My" bedroom was no longer my bedroom. The deck in back that I built with my dad just a couple of years ago... I would no longer get to sit on and enjoy overlooking the huge backyard as my dogs chased squirrels along the fence.

The finality of all this really sunk in for me today. And I feel like I'm in mourning.

Mourning the loss of that period of my life. 

I bought that house as a single woman. The location was ideal. The size of the home was ideal. The backyard was perfect. I lived there for 7 years. My current 3 dogs, and 3 cats, know no other home with me.

Even when my husband moved in, and I called it "our" house, in my heart, it still felt like "my" house. And it always will, I realize now.

But the "me" that purchased that house 7 years ago is not the same me I am today.

Now I am a married woman with a child on the way. And the house we just moved to... I feel THIS is my "family home." The home I will raise my children in. The home I share with my husband. It is OUR home.

It's bittersweet.

I have no doubt this was the right move for me. It was the next step along my journey of life. I have no regrets. But that doesn't mean I don't have sadness and feel a sense of loss.

I'm sure in time, as I build more memories in this new house with my family, it will get easier. I know that.

Just now... today... as I handed over possession of "my" home, it felt like a chapter of my life had finally come to an end. The chapter that was close to ending, as I read the last few pages... packing, moving, etc... has finally ended.

Single girl living on her own in the perfect house has moved on to the now-perfect house for a wife and mother.

What's perfect for us at one stage of our life won't always be.

My last house was perfect for me then. But it is small for a family (it's only 2 bedroom/1 bath). And my house now is perfect for my family moving forward.