Moving On

Tomorrow we move.  I'm excited about the move, but I'm going to miss our little piece of heaven. 

We've been here for 10 years...longer than I've lived anywhere in my adult life, longer than my children have lived anywhere in their lives.  I came here as a single mother, newly divorced, alone, lonely, leaving behind everything and everyone I knew in order to keep my children in the same town as their father. 

We've lived in a paradise, on a lake, with hawks and geese and ducks and bluebirds, and butterflies, and nature all around.  I re-married on the banks of our lake, and my son picked a flower from our garden for me to add to my bouquet.  We stopped the ceremony for it.

I've nursed sick children, entertained friends, worked into the night on a new church, packed my beauty/baby/now grown daughter for camp and later college, sat alone on the deck staring into the night stars when I couldn't sleep, held my "life dog" in my arms as he lay dying, chased chickens, laughed until I thought I would lose my breath, and cried a river of tears in this place. 

Tomorrow, we start, as my son puts it, a new season. 

Thank you Woodlake Court, for protecting us from storms, keeping us warm in winter and cool in summer, sheltering us from the rain, and giving me a safe, happy place to raise a family. 

I pray my blessings on the young couple that will also begin a new season tomorrow, and on their children.  I hope the memories and good energy of this place will help them build what Phil, Rebecca, Andrew, Marissa, Porkchop, Duke, Buck, Ginger, Nutmeg, Jasmine, Kirby, Sassafras, Shelley, Dinah, and I have had here....a home.  Not just a house, but a home.

And may the love, security, and commitment of our beautiful family go with us to our new home. 

With hope in my heart,
Teresa

Transitions

We move in a week.  Just saying it out loud makes my stomach lurch.  We've lived in this house for 10 years...longer than I've lived anywhere as an adult.  Honestly, I like to move, and I like culling and cleaning out and decluttering.  So why the stomach somersaults?  Transitions are hard, even when they are desirable.

I have friends who are changing jobs, ending marriages, starting relationships, questioning faith, struggling with illness, teetering on addiction, and more, and all those are transitions of one kind or another - from married to single or vice versa, from faith to doubt, from health to disease, from companionship to loss, from sobriety to addiction. 

How do you handle transition and the expected stress that naturally comes with it?  I tend to do two things: have a good cry at least once a day, then turn my attention to the next thing that has to be done.  In that way, I honor the stress, the uncertainty, and the risk, but I don't allow myself to wallow in it.  Life is too short to wallow.  Each moment spent dwelling over the abyss that is fear and regret only increases the risk of falling into the abyss.  I prefer to wipe my eyes, say a prayer of thanks for the lessons/gifts/challenges/growth I've experienced in whatever I'm leaving, then get a big ol' running start and jump headlong into the present.

So cry, laugh, shake your fist, or do whatever you need to do to bring closure, then keep moving ahead. 

Blessings,
Teresa