Moving is like birth and death, full of mourning and celebration, vulnerability and sentiment. Our life story has been replayed in the packing and unpacking of objects, pictures, and books. Our furniture has been on parade into and out of a moving truck. Our family has been watched as we made our exit from our desert home, neighbors lining the street to wave teary goodbyes. In our new neighborhood, we have been watched through the windows of curious neighbors and welcomed from driveways and across church pews.
I’ve handled objects I haven’t touched in years. My babies’ blankets, old photographs, and high school yearbooks tell pieces of our story. The textbooks from eleven years of homeschooling tell a bittersweet story from which I am walking away (gradually). My dusty violin case scolds me for the neglect I promised I would never allow. My Texas years, evidenced in seminary teacher manuals and church books remind me of another part of my life which I hope to awaken in our new place.
Our Texas years were times of expansion in ideas, friendships, and in family members. Our Arizona years were a time of retreat; they were a time for our family to focus on one another. I’m grateful for each home and every experience. I come back to Utah ready to watch our family grow into who we need to be here.
Have you ever adopted a theme song for an important time in your life? This has been my theme song during this past month of transition in our lives.
I’ll share photos soon.