The Long Way Home

It seems like a lifetime ago Mike and I decided it was time to give up our big beautiful house, renovate it back to it's former glory, and move on to a different kind of life. So much has happened, much of it unfortunate since we made that decision back last August. I have had to come to terms with the changes to my personal being of having children grow up, losing jobs and having my body give out in ways I never considered. So much letting go in all of this. I have always maintained that I am not my house or job or even my physical body. I am who I am because of the soul that exists within me. Even my beating heart does not define me. Long after this body gives way, I will still exist in the hearts and memories of those I love.
We have suffered growing pains during this time that prevented me from writing positive, uplifting things in this blog. I am , after all, merely human. I have shed tears of pain and frustration at the unfairness that has come to Mike and I during the last year. I felt deeply, that although this has been very uncomfortable, that somewhere along the line, there are better things that await us. I have never lost faith, but it has certainly been tested. I think that is where the real strength of faith lies, in the trials we endure to grow into ourselves.
We were packing up the few remaining items out of the house, and all I could think of was, I want to go "home", where my children, pets and stuff are. The house no longer felt like my home; it just felt like being in some house I no longer felt tied to. The last day, Mike and I peered into the windows, as if we were outsiders looking in, which in truth, we were. The house belongs to a new family now. There are sounds of young children and babies in the house. They are swimming in the pool, swinging on the tree swing that Mike had built for one of my birthdays, laughing and giddy at the prospect of making the house their new home. We said our good-byes to the house, we moved so far from where we came from and went back to the apartment that welcomed us with a ceiling collapse due to flooding from the washing machine above. Boxes are our new furniture and the place is packed with our belongings that have no home. It isn't really depressing, in fact in some ways it represents the relief we feel from releasing our hold on our stuff and big over sized house that no longer suited us.
On our anniversary we signed the remaining papers and gave the new owners our keys, assuring them they had the best neighbors in the world. I think for me that was the biggest sacrifice, giving away my neighbors, who I dearly love and would do anything for. I teased them saying since we were temporarily "homeless" we would rent their upstairs just to stay close to them. When we moved to Houston, we had nothing. Our stuff and my car were in transit and we didn't have a stick of furniture or a single appliance, except the stove. We had no idea what it would be like to live in Houston. We knew nothing of Texas except the single trip we had made to look at houses. We were as naive as babies. Six years seems like a lifetime now, looking back.
We recently found a house that is more suitable to Mike and my new lifestyle. At least two of the four children will be moving out, and our petting zoo will be reduced by at least one rabbit. We gave away furniture, placing it on the tree lawn for anyone who needed, or wanted it. I released some of the "treasures" from when my kids were babies in order to fit more easily into our new home, wherever that happens to be.
I'll be honest, I am not in a comfortable place. My life no longer resembles all that I used to be. It seems I am supposed to be different, changed, even transformed into something I am completely unfamiliar with. The things and children that dominated and defined my existence have moved on, and now it's time for me to move on, too. If I am no longer buying a house for the school system, or moving into a home that is close to my job, or even taking into account space for the kids to live in for years, then who am I? I do not have that answer. The answer I do have is that I am supposed to be Michael's wife first, for the first time in our married life. I feel relief in that, too. Although I have never lived this before, putting us first, ahead of kids, pets and homes, I will say I am up to the challenge. I have desperately missed my man-friend. He and I have been so busy renovating, selling and moving, taking care of kids and their stuff, we barely have seen each other. As we sat across from each other at dinner for our anniversary, we were exhausted, but happy just to be together. We felt so accomplished that our marriage had not only survived the move, but had grown stronger. We laughed because we couldn't remember the last time we had had a meal sitting across from each other that didn't include grocery listing things to fix or move, or problems to solve. I looked at my husband's face for a very long time. I appreciated every wrinkle of worry he has from taking care of us. I watched his expression over the week go from tired planning to complete relief after we signed away our home. He laughed at the table, smiling at me and I knew what I always have known, I would follow him anywhere.
We are making new plans, now. We have no clue what will happen to his job or if I will find a new occupation. We continue to guide the kids in their lives to be happy above all else. We walk the dogs, share coffee in the morning and sigh a lot. We made a new friend, here at the apartment complex. He came over for dinner and we shared food, stories, and laughter.
I have faith that we are in some way protected in our beliefs. I have faith that things will work out for the greater good, even though during all of this cars broke down, people failed to do what they said and the weather man assured us the hurricane season would be bad this year. The relentless heat, has me melting like an ice cream cone left on the sidewalk. The humidity is so thick it is as if we are breathing soup. And yet I feel relieved and happy, most days. This was never going to be easy, that much I have been sure of from day one. What I was certain of was that it was right. Much like a dog with a bone, I held fast to the my belief that if I hung on long enough the end results would be completely worth it. All I can say for now is, stay tuned...