… and I am quietly freaking out!
Not only because I have only packed a measly two boxes of our stuff in preparation for the move but also because it now feels too soon. Too hectic. Too big a thing to be happening right now. I’m excited too though, cannot wait to move into the home we’ve chosen for our family. The hounds are going to LOVE the huge garden and Kade is going to have loads of fun playing soccer and cricket on our new expansive lawn.
The thing is this.
We’ve lived in our current home for over 9 years. It’s the house that became our home. It’s about the carport renovation, the new swanky patio where we’ve entertained a LOT, the new stairs which converted our home into a safe place instead of a rollercoaster death trap. It’s where my husband proposed to me. (on the old death trap staircase) It’s where we arrived the day after our wedding amped but tired to open pressies. It’s been the place that’s kept us safe, warm and sheltered.
The stories those four walls could tell are countless. The arguments about money for ivf, the ensconcement after too many failed treatments. The place where we celebrated our eventual pregnancy success and the place that we brought our son home to. It’s where we’ve seen our bug grow from baby to big boy. Where we’ve danced manically, laughed our heads off. Where we’ve cried – from sadness and joy. It’s where I grieved in my husband’s arms when my Dad passed away.
This house – our HOME is the place we’ve made and created some of the worst and some of the best memories of our life together.
I know that there will be special times in our new house. That there will be challenges we have to face together there and as we grow to know our new home, that new memories will be created. But I am sad to be leaving our current home. I think I’ll probably have a quiet moment next week when it’s all empty and say a prayer for the family who will be taking ownership of “our place”.
I can only hope and pray that they have as blessed a time in that house as we have.