We moved into our new home on June 1st. And the new owners of our old home moved in on June 22. June was a bitter sweet month.
The boys haven’t seemed to care about the move. They love the new house, the new street, the new neighbors … they miss our swing set and talk about Kittie and Lyle occasionally (our former neighbors), but there were no tears or gnashing of teeth about us moving. Except for by me.
I did really well. Everything worked out too perfectly for me to deny that the move was supposed to happen and I do love our new house, but that last day, as I walked around and took pictures, I got teary. It was just hard to say good-bye to the place my babies were babies…to move away from those memories and those traditional photo taking spots … to leave the house I’d worked so hard to update.
It was even harder to leave my backyard. Not only was I leaving my big trees that I adored, but also my memories with Trouble and Daisy.
Rusty struggled a little with the backyard. When we went to leave for the last time, he put his head down on the old truck shell and said, “Good-bye, clubhouse!”
But move we did and it really is a great house and a great location and the more I do to the home to make it mine, the more I’m reminded that it is mine. And the first time I saw Ricky climb on his bike and ride unassisted with a big old smile on his face, those twinges of sadness completely faded. This is our home.
