Family over 3 years ago by Liz Adams

Moving is Sad

I’ve had a tough week. Moving is sad. Writing it out is cathartic to me so I’m going to write it out.

I am really sad to leave our house. I’ve talked about this before and so many of you reassured me that this is such a natural feeling as you let go of your first home. I keep thinking about the feeling Dave and I had when we first bought her. So proud, so excited and feeling like “this is it!” We always knew this wouldn’t be our forever home but I think I pictured our forever there. I think that’s what you have to do to make a house a home.

I’ve been so sentimental. Trying to make our boys feel my sadness. I think it’s maybe one of the ways that I mourn. Wanting everyone to feel the emotions that I feel is comforting to me, makes me feel like I’m not alone. Dave keeps telling me that it’s ok, that they are adaptable and that the boys will go through this transition so smoothly! Which I know.

I am so excited for South Carolina. We are so excited. I have felt this pull for so long but I think it’s been a lot on top of welcoming George, slowly packing and watching our house become less of a home. Pulling photos off the wall, boxes everywhere – legit chaos in all corners. We decided to move to my parents house for the week and a half before we fly to South Carolina, that way the boxes can pile up everywhere and the transition goes a little more smoothly. But I’ve realized that this waiting is tough. the movers comes tomorrow and I’m ready to rip off the bandaid!

I’m honestly not even thinking about the fact that we are moving away from family and friends. We plan to come back to the Midwest for a good chunk of the summer, I’ll be back in May when my sister has her baby and my family visits Charleston a lot. I think the sadness of not having them closer will hit once we are already there. Right now it’s the leaving our sense of home, my sense of home, our routine, the people and places that make up our day to day – that feels sad and heavy.

This past Sunday was the last night in our home. I cried the entire day. Wandering around aimlessly in my pajamas until 4pm just crying. I wrote our house a letter, telling her she has been the best home for our growing family. That she is small and mighty and made us feel so loved. That her creaky floors just reminded us of how close we actually are. On our last night I put the letter in the fireplace so it would burn into the chimney to stay there forever. To tell her that we would never forget her.

Does this make me sound crazy?

I’ve never been good at transitions or change. But a little piece of me is staying at this sweet little house. The sweetest house where I rocked my babies in the middle of the night, cooked dinner, gave bubble baths, read them books, laid in the grass and looked for airplanes, ran through sprinklers and watched my babies grow over the past 4 years. We became parents a second and third time in this home. Dave and I grew as parents and grew as husband and wife. The feeling that this home gave me is the reason I get excited for what’s next. That we will carry this feeling with us in South Carolina.

Home is wherever I’m with Dave, Charlie, Jack, George and Webster and that is more than enough. But for now, I’m going to mourn this sweet little house with tulips on the shutters. I’m going to miss her so much.