Tonight is our last night in this place we’ve called home for the last three years. It’s the longest we’ve lived in a single place our entire married life.
I’ve been so overwhelmed with the packing that I hadn’t stopped to think about what we’re leaving.
Our little two bedroom 2.5 bath Townhome was the perfect place to move. Close to my downtown job. A small back yard with a white picket fence just large enough for our Snoop to romp around in. It was a downsize from our three bedroom condo in Utah, but it still fit us well.
Then we decided to have a baby and we quickly filled the space. Even still, this home is where I spent the happiest days of my life.
It’s where I carried my child, welcomed my child, and where I’ve raised her. It’s where my husband and I confided during some of our most difficult challenges. In many ways, I think it’s where we really began to discover ourselves. On our own, far from family, making a new home and growing our own family.
At Subway this afternoon, where we took a quick break for lunch, I broke down. The tears came out of no where. I realized TONIGHT would be our last night in this home we’ve grown so much in.
This afternoon was the last time our daughter would greet the neighbors who’ve watched her grow up. The last time she’d run next door yelling “flowers!!” while sticking her nose in them to take a whiff.
It was the last time we’d run across the street to watch the butterflies drink from a pretty garden.
“What if she freaks out about the new place?” I asked my husband.
“She won’t. We’ll be there too. With all of her toys and things.” He assured me.
He laughed at my emotional state. But I couldn’t help it.
I’ve moved so many times and every time it’s been much further than this one. But that hasn’t made it easier.
We’re going to have an extra bedroom and a garage, plus a nice yard and new neighborhood to play in. I have a sky high stack of boxes full of my things, my two favorite people and our favorite fur ball coming with me, but I still feel like I’m leaving a part of me behind.
What keeps me moving forward (aside from that April 30th deadline) is the hope and excitement for a new batch of memories. New adventures with my husband, new babies (if I’m lucky), and lots LOTS more fun with the one I already have.