What Might Have Been~ Being Home
Being Home; Where the Heart Is
Being Home ~ I’m sure many of you who read this blog regularly have been wondering where the hell I have been. Life’s been incredibly busy lately. I know, you are all playing your tiny little violins and having a teenie tiny pity party for me. It’s okay. It’s been busy and chaotic but in a really wonderful way. I’m trying to get my bearings in a new reality. It’s sort of like learning to walk for the first time. I’m a bit wobbly and I’ve fallen a couple of times ( metaphorically) i.e. the missing in action status. I am here, reading your comments and missing you all desperately but it seems every time that I turn around some new and exciting situation is presenting itself .
Aside from all of the wonderful working opportunities that we have been blessed with lately, there has been a house on the market for over a year now that we desperately want to sell so that we can move out of a holding pattern and on with our lives. This past week we were informed on a Tuesday that we needed to relocate our packed boxes out of our garage and storage area in our basement and to a storage facility. Yes, we needed to move all of our stored belongings out of our $1300 a month storage unit ( the house we pay for and don’t live in) and into another storage unit (an additional $100 a month for storage, 4 days away from work, $60 for a uhaul to move the boxes and my husbands back that went out while moving the boxes). This was all done because a potential buyer couldn’t see passed the stacked boxes of our lives in the garage. This is how desperate we are to sell this house. Have I mentioned that we have been living in a bedroom at my in laws?
Being Home is like returning to the only place you truly know
While we were there, I was flooded with what might have been. This is the house we moved to when Ella was 5 months old. We uprooted our entire lives so that we could raise our girls nearer to family. This is the house where Ella said her first words, learned to walk, had her first play date and celebrated every single birthday up until this year. This is the house where Abbi was conceived, came home from the hospital to, learned to roll over and crawl, say mama and got her first booboo. This is where she came home and danced in her very first pair of ballet slippers, this is the place she became a little girl. This is the house where the Big Guy got down on his knee and re-proposed, on our 11th wedding anniversary because the first time he was too nervous and just blurted it out. This house has been our home almost since we have become a family. Within these walls, I learned the true definition of what it is to be a mothers. Being home, I realized that this house holds my heart.
Life has been difficult for the past 3 years with all the moving, job changes, commuter marriage, changing schools and now living with our in laws. The girls have missed a lot of the type of childhood that we had dreamed for them. Don’t get me wrong, they are blessed. We all are. We have our health ( knock on wood), we have love and we are together. Really, what more could you hope for in life?
I mean the little things, the simple things that we all take for granted that I was reminded of this weekend in our home. Sleeping in your own bed. Knowing that you are home. Playing with your toys without rebuke or being chastised for making a mess.Sitting down for dinner just the 4 of us, at our table and talking, laughing, being sincerely happy. Being home. Watching the girls play with all their toys, climbing on the swing, and playing with their neighborhood friends made me happy.Going to familiar places, driving down familiar streets and being someplace where you feel you belong; like falling into a comfy lounge in the warm sun. Being home.
That’s where I’ve been. I’ve missed you madly. I loved being home, even if it had no internet and it was pack and move stuff to storage. There is no option for us to return to that city. It’s hard to say goodbye to the only “home” we’ve ever known.
How do you say goodbye to people and places that are your home; the very things that make up your memories? How do you leave after being home?