I am trying to come to terms with moving from this house we have lived at now for almost 9 years. Despite the fact that we’ve been trying to sell it for several of those years, it still doesn’t seem real that I will be leaving here. You see, after years of trying to sell our house, we finally have an offer. We don’t know yet if everything will go through as planned, but we are moving forward as if it will. Because we are a little particular about what type of rental we want, we went ahead and started the process to sign up for one, even though we don’t really need to move out until May. As it stands right now, we will be moving out April 17th.
We are moving down the street, well quite a way down the street, to the other end of town. We have looked at many rentals and after each one we would ask Elise if she liked it and she would say “yes.” We’d ask her which was her favorite and for quite some time it was whichever one we had looked at most recently. Her reasons for liking a house were sometimes as simple as “there are stars on the bedroom ceiling,” or “I like the closet that you can run through.” At least we know she isn’t picky. Will on the other hand, would always answer “no” when asked whether or not he liked a house. Though he has been quite excited about looking at them. Now whenever I show him a picture of a house, he says “House, in?” His own version of Elise’s question: “Do we get to go in this one?” (Sometimes we just drive by first to check it out.) I wonder how hard his transition will be to actually moving out of our house and “in”to another one. Seth is too young to really be too strongly affected I think, and Elise is excited about something new. But Will, he is just at that age where I wonder if he will be homesick, if he will wonder when we will be going back “home.”
There are a lot of benefits of moving. We have started to sort through and reduce the number of toys, clothes, kitchen items, books, etc. We are taking the opportunity to sell some of our furniture and invest in some pieces that will fit us better. We get to experience the adventure of change.
But there are some things I don’t like about moving. I really like this house. It has served us well, and even though I have failed at my attempts to keep it clean because it is so big, most of the spaces are well-used. I will always remember this house as the house where we began our parenting adventure. From Elise to Seth, each child has been welcomed into this home. Emma, especially, who breathed her first breath in this house, and 7 months later breathed her last just one room away from where she was born. Saying good-bye to this house doesn’t mean I’ll lose those memories, but in some way, it feels like I am having to let something go.
I know I tend to hold too tightly to earthly things sometimes. As we have started to pack and sort to get ready to move out, I pulled out all the bins of baby clothes I had kept. Sorting through box after box of clothes I forced myself to let go of most of the items. Why should I pack them away in a box, when someone else could be wearing them? I did keep many of the ones I had made, and the ones that were Emma’s that she never wore, and others that were extra-special. These will be passed down to my grandchildren someday. But letting go of the rest of the clothes is hard, as letting go doesn’t come naturally to me. I know it is just the start, though, a start down the path of letting go. Perhaps when my hands cling less tightly to the things that surround me, they will cling more tightly to my God.