It’s Hard to Say Good-bye

I have a confession. I’ve been a bit melancholy lately and I’ve not really known why. Last week I finally figured out what on earth was going on. I *gulp* dislike change. Hard to believe, huh? Someone that has spent the past five years traveling doesn’t like change?

It’s a wee bit difficult for me to wrap my mind around so it will probably be near impossible to communicate with you, but I’ll try. When we were traveling with my husband’s job, I ‘knew’ that we were either on the road or that the potential was there to travel. So if my husband came home after lunch and said, “We’re leaving for Atlanta tomorrow,” I was okay because I knew that was my life. It doesn’t mean that at times I didn’t wish that things were different. It doesn’t mean that those words never caused my blood pressure to spike.  It doesn’t mean that I was always grateful for the opportunities that were before us but I had learned to deal with it in my own way.

I know it was time for us to move into the house and I’m so thankful that we have been able to settle down and actually *feel* settled- that’s the key word- because for the first time in several years, I feel like we’re really home. We’ve found a new church that we attend, we’ve joined a homeschool cover school (as outlined by our state’s law), we’re meeting new friends, I'm signing the kids up for music lessons that they've wanted to take, I'm starting a Charlotte Mason inspired co-op, I’m scoping out stores and places to shop on *my side of town* and each day we get more comfortable.

So, what is my problem? This is it…for over a year, we lived here:

…imagine adding two adults and three children that are all taller than my husband and myself, a two year old adopted pound puppy and all our necessary belongings. Not a whole lot of room.

Inside the camper, we were within steps of one another, sometimes literally running into each other and everyone was within both my line of vision and earshot. As cramped and crowded and sometimes unappealing as it sounds…this was one of the best times I have ever spent with my family and I miss it. Even though I now have a bathroom that I can change clothes in without banging into the walls, a kitchen sink that was almost bigger than my entire kitchen in the camper, a closet that holds all my clothes with plenty of space for more and my very own washer and dryer…I already miss it. And though I know we are doing what is best for our family right now in this season of our lives, it’s going to take me just a wee little bit to adjust. And just incase you just skimmed this post and didn't read the entire thing let me make one thing perfectly clear, I do feel blessed. Does feeling blessed have to mean that I also can't feel just a tiny bit sad too? I don't think so.

So forgive me if I'm having a hard time saying good-bye.