I have been dreading this day more than I could ever express in words.
The past few months have been filled with lasts, endings and goodbyes. It’s been heart wrenching and heart breaking. Some days I would shake from the inside out. Some nights I’d wake up in a panic. The tears have been free flowing and endless.
I am leaving the only place I have ever lived. I am leaving countless people and places I love dearly. At times my heart hasn’t felt big enough to contain the tremendous ache of it all.
My daughter is off to college in Virginia, where my husband is from, so that means we are all moving. It’s a new beginning for my daughter, and it’s a homecoming for my husband. But for me, it’s just……..leaving.
I knew it would be hard to go, but the process of shutting down my life here has been exponentially more difficult than I could ever have imagined.
But today is the day, and I woke up with a feeling that was 150% unexpected: calm. Don’t ask me where that came from, as the past few months have been anything but. Perhaps it’s that saying goodbye is harder than actually leaving. I don’t know.
In spite of my calm, my heart is still heavy. There’s no escaping that. However, before today my sadness was so all encompassing there wasn’t room for any other emotion.
But for whatever reason, that changed today. In addition to calm, a wave of gratitude has swept in. These past few months, I have been focusing solely on everything I’m losing and leaving. But in the shower this morning, it occurred to me there was another way to look at my situation. It wouldn’t be so hard to leave if I hadn’t been so happy here. It wouldn’t be so hard to leave if I hadn’t experienced so much love here. And it wouldn’t be so hard to leave if I hadn’t experienced so much healing here.
So today I’m focusing on all those who have loved me, helped me and stood by me in both good and bad times. I’m grateful for every person who has crossed my path and left a mark in some way. It’s a funny thing to say, but thank you for making it so darn hard to leave. I’m lucky that way.
At this moment, I’m sitting on the floor in the corner of my bedroom as the movers quickly, yet methodically remove our belongings. Every last thing is packed. Every box is closed, every piece of furniture is wrapped up. The fridge is empty. There is nothing for me to do now but wait. Wait for the movers to finish their job. Wait for my new beginning.
And as I wait my mind is relatively still, which is unusual for me.
This move is going to be difficult. There will be challenges and adjustments. I hope there will be happiness and laughter and joy too. But that’s all in the future. And I don’t know about that.
The only thing I know for sure as I sit here on the floor is that my heart is full. Full of love. Full of gratitude.
If I keep focusing on gratitude, I think I just might have the courage to walk out the door and drive away. I’m not looking forward to that moment. It feels so large and impossible and unfathomable. But it’s happening. Soon. In a couple of hours.
Please pray for me and wish me well. I will do the same for you.