Thursday, August 30, 2012

This Old House

This morning, as I was making my bed, I realized how much I would miss my little house.  No, I'm not moving anytime soon, but we have some goals over the next couple of years with moving being one of them.  And you know how it is.  The (cheap) carpet is definitely showing its true colors and the ancient wiring in the bathroom keeps the light from staying on consistently and everything else like it.  All screaming at me, "Your new house won't be like this!"

So, moving has been on my mind, but for some reason I thought of actually walking out the front door and never coming back to call it home.  I'd already done that once in my life and it was traumatic.  Sure, its just a house and I know some people live in 15 different places throughout their lifetime.  But, not me and my entire marriage was housed here.  My beautiful son was born in the living room! And on it goes, all the sentimental things that I'll miss.

I turn to Randy, who is in the bathroom putting in his contacts, and officially inform him that although I most definitely want to move (and ASAP!), know that I will deeply mourn this house.  As you would expect he chuckled and said ok, with that 'you're crazy but I'm getting used to it' kind of look.  When I was much younger and my family moved out of my childhood home, I was so excited that I didn't look back.  Full speed ahead!!  And I crashed and burned (emotionally) really hard.

My point is this: Change - even when its the healthiest, most beneficial, most RIGHT change - is hard and requires a little bit of mourning.  A new car, a new school, new friends, new routines even! Sometimes we ignore our need for mourning because a change is normal, necessary or something that happens really fast.  But acknowledging somehow what the old represents or meant to our life is healing and nourishing somehow.  As babies turn into men and structures decay, life will not be the same.  And while that's okay, to maintain our balance we have to honor all that those babies and once new entities were and meant before we can embrace the bright future.


Alisa said...

Just this morning, as I went in to wake Billy for school, I noticed that his legs no longer looked like that of a little boy. They were tree trunks of legs with manly looking hair and all. When did that happen? I didn't wake him for a few minutes, I just touched his legs and remembered them running around. Mourning,? Yes, I did a bit of that this morning.
The days are long, but the years are short.

Amy Butler said...

When he was sitting next to Grant and Timothy the other day, I noticed how slender his face was looking and just how old he seemed. It really does happen when we're not looking, huh? :) Hope the mourning turns to joy at the man he's becoming!

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