These last two weeks have been… hard. There’s really no other word that comes to mind.
Moving is never easy, especially for someone who’s rather change averse like me. I love this cozy little house. This is where M and I lived our first years as a married couple. This is where I first brought home C and then Little L. This is where my babies became little girls. And yes, this is where we weathered challenge after challenge, struggle after struggle, taking comfort in the familiar space that we’ve filled with love over the years.
Seeing the rooms filled with boxes and the shelves empty of memorabilia and things has been hard for me, but it’s been exponentially harder for the kids. C has almost daily meltdowns. Little L has regressed and is wetting the bed during nap time. (Even the cat is out of sorts.) They’re cranky, volatile, snapping at each other and at us all day long. So I’ve had to push aside my own unrest to help them through this, their first move.
I was doing great until Susan passed away two weeks ago. It wasn’t unexpected, but it still knocked me off my game. I’d been powering through the packing, managing the kids’ emotional roller-coasters, I was even doing a great job on Splash. And then I ground to a halt.
For a week I sat, numb, on my couch. I tried to do… stuff. But I don’t think I got anything done. I just kept thinking of Susan’s sons, of her husband, of her friends, of all the people who prayed for her and hoped beyond hope that she’d beat cancer a fourth time. Everything else felt… futile.
Last week the fog started to lift and I started getting back on track. I’m still sad, but of all people, Susan wouldn’t have wanted me to squander any more of my life. I channeled her energy last week. I scheduled the movers. I went to networking events. I even sent out a number of queries for my book. And I packed.
I love this little house with its bright walls, funny ceilings, and endless quirks. I cherish the memories we’ve created here — both good and bad. But I’m so excited about the new place and I can’t wait to get there so we can start filling it with sounds of life and love.
The new house has majestic Redwoods in the garden and a little creek that runs through the back-yard. The house has entire walls made of glass and when I stand in the living room I feel like I’m in a peaceful haven.
Even as I struggle through tying up loose ends, packing up the odds and ends, sorting, donating, purging, and managing everyone’s angst and stress, I can’t help but feel hopeful. This feels like the start of a new chapter for us, a chapter that promises to be amazing.