Life is full of change. I sometimes wonder how it all works, this life. Sometimes it seems to all make sense, like ducks lined up in a row. Life has fallen into order and all seems to be smooth sailing, until it’s not. All moves I believe are grounded with good intentions, a good reason, well thought out and for the best of all involved. No one moves because they’re out to make others miserable. It doesn’t work that way. However, moving seemingly pulls out every emotion in the books. I’m sad, I’m happy, I’m nervous, I’m excited, I’m exhausted. I’m up one minute with nothing but dreams of a happy future only to be followed by moments of trembling fear of what the future holds. I often wonder why life has to be so difficult.
Talking with my daughter who is 16 about surviving the move has brought about some profound statements by both she and me. Her concerns are warranted and I find her insights about the future very thought provoking. One thing I find, I reflect on my past and how I felt at 16. Life for me was troubling and hard. My parents decided to divorce at 15 and the Home life I’d grown to feel safe and content in completely went to crap. My parents split, my mother moved three hours away, my sister withdrew, my dad disappeared. I remember sitting in my house wondering what happened to my life. I explained to my daughter that life in my opinion is a struggle with moments of confetti sprinkled in. I told her if I didn’t look for the beauty in life, I’m not sure I’d say life is all that great. In fact to be honest, I’d say it’s not. I’ve had moments where things that have happened would make me out to be a complete failure. Luckily enough things seem to happen in life that redeem us and lift us up enough to stand and try again.
I’m not sure what I’m saying applies to everyone but it sure applies to me. So while my heart breaks when I see my kids fall to pieces because the adults in their life have decided to move to a new town, and resulting for them, a new school, I try to remind myself that all I’m doing is for the betterment of their lives. The betterment of my life and that of my husbands. This move brings me closer to my mother and dad, my husbands dad and step-mom and my husband’s brother not to mention past friendships rekindled as we move back to our home town.
I hated saying goodbye to my home of 16 years when my parents divorced and soon sold my home. In fact, I told my children, I cried every time I drove by my home for years, upon years, upon years. But my memories are strong. My memories are something no one can take away from me, and for me, my home, no matter how long it has belonged to someone else, will always be my home. I hope they come to realize the same applies to their home. No one can ever take away the memories that were created in this home. While they tell me they grew up in this house, I must remind them, I know, I watched them grow up in this house. It shares many of the same memories for me as it does for them.
My husband and I know we’ll all have tears steaming down our faces as we say goodbye and drive away from our home but we’ll love our home until the day we die, just as I feel about my childhood home. We’ll be back to say hello and I’m sure we’ll sit and stare as the memories flashing through our minds like flash cards, as tears fill our eyes, but we’ll survive. I know we will.
It’s another struggle as we cope with emotions. God willing our new home will saturate us with new memories and new lives and new friendships and a closer family connection. If there is one very bright silver lining, we are not leaving the great state of Michigan. This is our permanent home. Wishing you all a blessed life with few struggles or at the very least, some cake and ice cream to go along with that confetti when things are going great. Love, hugs and prayers.
S.
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