I am weeks away from walking out of this little palace of ours. This the place where we celebrated our first anniversary the day we moved in. This the place where we prayed and prayed and prayed for a baby - just one - and the years saw us bring home three. This the place where those three littles have had their sleepless nights and first fevers and first times rolling over and first steps and first words. This the place where all five of us - different and separate though we may be - were knit into a unique little family. How do I leave here? What about all the dreams that can't be packed up in boxes? Will they fade when I'm not sitting in the rooms where they happened? And am I okay with it if they do?
As much as we are going to love the new place and make new memories here, a part of me is still so loving this house. And as Hunter babbles himself to sleep while Maddie tries to slumber in the same room, as I sit there and shake my head and long for the home where they will all have their own rooms, I know in my heart that this here has been good too.
We made a paper chain. I may have passed down some of my want-to-know-so-I-can-plan tendencies on to my girls and I've made a lot of countdowns over the years. So these rainbow strips of paper with their little handwritten numbers now dangle in the corner where they catch my eye a hundred times a day. This is how many days are left here. And every night when they rip one more ring off that chain, I feel a little wistful.
Did we soak it up? Did we really live it? Did we appreciate this - one of our last days in this house?
Things are in flux for sure. Just as my heart feels a little tossed right now, the whole house is a bit crazy.
The kids have had to find a place to play among the boxes.
I've had to find a place to do my laundry amidst the mountains of stuff.
Spaces are being slowly and methodically emptied out.
We have to make sure we don't pack a few things that are essential to our survival. Don't judge me.
Because you don't want to know how many times I've unpacked the kitchen boxes in search of something I was sure I wouldn't need until we moved.
And even in that state of craziness, we live here. We find a way to just do the normal things. And I try to note those normal things are part of the mysterious blessing - the wondrous goodness - of simple everyday life in this house.
Change is not easy for me. And while I am thrilled (absolutely delighted) with the new house and the way it is my vision come to life - I am also feeling a pull to not hurry on over there. Let's just enjoy these last 15 days in all their color.
Tonight Reagan will rip that blue link off the chain. I'll watch her and Maddie as they peer back up at the days left. And I will smile as they squeal in their excitement. Counting days and making days count.
And months from now I hope I will remember how much I loved it here and how good He was to us in our nearly 13 years here.