After announcing our big move, I found it quite harder to even fathom it. To be honest, I never saw myself moving to Texas. I never saw myself giving up life here. Especially my home.
“It’s just a house.”
Have you ever wanted something so much, you never thought you could have it. You never imagined building a home on land, with the views you dreamed of, backroads that seem so quaint with cows and sheep living nearby, feeling so far from the rat race of city life, dogs with the freedom in your own backyard to romp around and bark at nonsenses, that home that finally found your peace. It’s not just a house.
Days keep creeping up to closing date. Inspections are underway. Boxes still need to be filled. More than 85% of our house will be living in storage for a year. At least it felt so good to purge items we don’t need or use.
As we moved out, tears began streaming as we said our final goodbyes. I can only hope the new owners love it as much as we do.
I went back in and checked room to room to make sure it was empty. It was very empty. I begin to think of all the things we wanted to do with the house but never got a chance to. The wall shelf in the living room barely started. The vision design I had for our master bedroom. The ideas I wanted to do for a nursery when a baby comes. A huge patio with a fireplace with a pool to go with it. A vision of the dogs chasing the kids around the backyard. I could see many sweet moments.
It’s hard to say good bye to special memories created in the home. The laughters we have working out together in the garage. The dogs nuzzling us for attention while we are trying to sleep in. The dreamy snow days by the fireplace. The Super Bowl LII house divided. The garden we grew ourselves. Playing fetch with the pups. Making meals together. The special touches we added to the home including a fireplace mantel made out of old railroad wood, the sliding barn doors out of pallet wood, ‘hello’ on the yellow front door, and copper sink. The copper sink that I adored in every distressed way.
While we are transitioning to a new state in a much smaller home, it will take some time.
I learned that expectations can hurt, to let it go and open your heart wide. When it feels scary to jump, that’s exactly when you should jump otherwise, you will end up staying in the same place your whole life.
I also know that someday, much sooner than I can imagine, I will be walking through the rooms of another beautiful new house feeling the exact same way I do about the cute house with the yellow door.