We’re moving. Again. Across the country. Again.
Two cross country moves with two little guys in less than a year. It’ll be fun, we said. (Spoiler alert – it’s not).
We’re actually getting pretty good at moving. I’ve essentially mastered selling stuff on Kijiji (the trick is to ask for a little more than you actually want, and then settle on what you were hoping for in the first place). We’ve come up with a detailed list of what needs to happen when, including packing, sorting, errand running and cleaning, and each day we tick off the tasks we’ve completed. This makes my heart happy, and allows me not to spend each day curled up in fetal position on my kitchen floor stressing over how all this stuff is going to get done. In theory, we have got this.
Except, what we have also got is two toddlers. So of course, today when I finished packing a big box of cooking utensils, set it down on the floor, and then ran to the bathroom for 20 seconds, I came back to find the utensils being used as all manner of musical instruments, and also, a hat.
I also spend 45 minutes out of every hour reassuring my sensitive toddler that yes, Thomas the train will be coming with us to our new house. Yes, James will be coming too. Yes, we can take your Blue Jays hat. Yes, we can also take your digger. We are taking all the toys, bud. Yes, that means Luka’s phone too. And your soccer ball. Yes, the football too. And on and on we go until all toys within eyesight have been accounted for.
I don’t particularly like moving. It’s a lot of work to pack up a whole house and move it. But this time I have been grateful for the to do list, the never ending tasks that must get done; for the busyness that occupies my mind, so that I can keep my heart from dwelling on what is to come.
At least, that is what I was doing, until recently when a wise friend encouraged me to let my heart grieve.
I can’t say I was prepared for the torrent of emotions that hit when I began to heed that advice. It’s been an emotional roller coaster. There is so much to look ahead to. A new adventure. Renewed friendships. Time with family.
But there is also much to grieve. For the first time in over ten years, I have spent the last few months living close to my family. I have loved every minute of it. I have been at my nephews and nieces birthday parties; watched them blow out candles, and open their presents. I have kissed their cheeks, and squeezed them, listened to their endless concerts, rocked them to sleep, and grown to love their unique personalities. I have spent hours and hours in conversation with my mom, and my sisters – talking about nothing, talking about everything. Those moments – the moments when our kids are running around singing, or just yelling for no reason, and the babies are incessant in their quest to get up the stairs, and we are just talking, and talking, and talking, and talking – over all the noise, over all the chaos; those are the moments I will miss the most.
A few months ago, I came across this:
My time with my sisters has been so good for my soul. It has given me strength, and confidence, and joy, because with them I can be truly and wholly myself. I have soaked up each second we have spent together, and it has left me better. To leave them, to give up these times together, breaks my heart.
Yet sometimes, you have to do the things you don’t want to do, because you know that they are right. You have to walk down the path laid out for you, do what you are called to do, even though it hurts.
And it hurts. It really does. I’m struggling to focus on the positive, to look forward to the good, all the hellos in store, because right now, I can only feel the goodbyes.
But that’s the beauty of grace. I don’t have to hold it all together. I don’t have to know exactly what’s in store. I don’t have to put on a brave face, and push through. Because there is grace for me. In my heartbreak, in my struggle, there is One who will hold me. One who will give me hope. One who will be my strength, my confidence, my joy. Because He and He alone helps me to be truly and wholly myself.
We are moving. And my heart is breaking. But there is grace for me. And I would follow my Hubs to the end of the world.
So here we go.