I Never Used to Cry

I noticed in my blog I talk a lot about crying. I didn't cry for almost 7 years, when I was in my late 20's and early 30's. There is a big story about that, but it will have to wait. The reason it has to wait is a story in of itself that also has to be told another time. The point is, I couldn't cry. I held everything in until one day the dam broke and I haven't stopped since. I make no apologies for the crying. I get that some see it as a weakness. I, personally, don't view it that way. My crying keeps me honest and my integrity in tact. I am happy that I cry whenever it suits. Years ago, I was not able to allow the tears to flow and found myself pushing anything truly emotional away from me. Now I feel things deeply. There is solace in feeling things all the way to my bones.
It makes it easier for me to let go of the stuff that happens in my life that might possibly weigh me down. I have had anchors around my neck and I really hate the feeling of drowning, so I let the water flow and the snot drip.
Today is day 6. Day 5 I went and got my hair cut and permed, before the helmet season kicks in here in Houston. I basically took the day off. I probably should not have, but I spent time at The Conservatory, it's in the chapter "Pebbles In My Pond" and saw all the friends I have been missing for months. I felt peaceful there. It helps that it is a Day Spa and has perfectly appointed decor, but the peolple are more beautiful than their surroundings.
I dropped out for the day. I needed the break. My hair now coiffed, today I am ready to start getting ready for the big changes that heading for me like a Mac truck.
I will spend the day picking apart the house we just finished, trying to see it with new eyes. I love this house. I am very proud of the work we have done. It is beautiful. I always knew it could be and now it truly is.
Tomorrow we sign the paper work and put the for sale sign in the yard. I am hoping some nice people buy our house. Our neighbors deserve someone wonderful. We have been so blessed living amongst the nicest people. I remember the first day we "moved in". We didn't have a stick of furniture because it was a holiday weekend. We had no appliances, not a cup or plate or slice of bread. My car was on it's way somewhere between Ohio and Texas and wouldn't arrive for another week. I didn't know where the grocery store was. I didn't know where the post office, bank, hospital or schools were. We slept on air mattresses and sleeping bags and sat on the floor or ground. The boys and I took a walk to the store and nearly passed out from heat stroke. I learned that day, no one walks in Houston at 2PM in 102 heat index weather. I have learned many things about Texas since moving here. The thing I learned most recently is, it is my home. I have lived here for 6 years now and it is where my kids go to college, where they graduated from high school and where Michael's company and our future is based. It is where I finally wrote a book, somehting I thought I would only dream of doing.
In the six years we have lived here, we have survivied hurricanes, Ike being the most ferocious, draughts, tropical storms, teenagers, pay cuts, injuries, illness, job loss, the worst economic melt down since the depression, and on and on...I looked at Michael this morning bleary eyed over fresh coffee, in silence, as we prioritized our separate work day in our heads. I looked at how tired he was. His eyes half closed, he checked his work list and added several more things on an already full piece of paper. I saw how much greyer his hair has become. I thought momentarily about my own reflection and how much I have changed over the last six years. I couldn't help but smile at my boyfriend. We are moving forward together. The last time we moved, he was in Houston handling everything south, while I remained with the kids in Cleveland handling everything north. This time we are in it together. I sipped slowly, my coffee, wanting the morning to last longer before we went our separate ways to do our separate chores. This house of ours has our family imprint all over it. We have painted every wall and replaced every light switch. When I step back and really look at our house, it exudes warmth and love and lots and lots of work. I have loved living here, but if staying means just keeping things the same because it's scary, then I want to move on. Nothing was scarier than moving our family 1200 miles away from everything we have ever loved, so this shouldn't be nearly as bad. I am more afraid of not moving forward and missing something, than I am wanting to keep my house. My home is Michael and my kids; always has been, always will be.