A Sad Kind of Happy

Eyebrows: Week 6      Eyelashes: Week 4

Day 29 (March 4, 2019)

Hi Father,

            I was video chatting with my mom this morning, and she told me that she went to a children’s ministry appreciation dinner last night. At these dinners, the ministry leaders often fill out a response card—describing what they feel has gone well and what they believe they can improve on—but this time my mom did not fill a card out. After 23 years of serving in children’s ministry, at our home church, my mom will be stepping down from teaching. Father, I have known for a while now that my family is going to be moving to North Carolina but, for some reason, hearing my mom talk about not filling out that response card made it official. (My heart has felt so terribly sad ever since.)

            Believe me, I know that the move will help my family out financially because, as you know, it is outrageously expensive to live in California. (I want my dad—who has been a wonderful provider for our family—to have that weight taken off his shoulders.) The move would put them on the east coast and way closer to me. There would no longer be 3,000 miles separating us. Instead, the distance would be shortened to a couple of hours in the air or a one day’s drive. (Selfishly, this does make the idea of the move a lot more joyful.) But, Father, my heart just doesn’t want to let my childhood home go. My parents still chuckle about how I reacted when they told me they had decided to sell the house and move to North Carolina. (I may have hugged the hallway wall during most of their announcement.)

            Father, can you truly blame me? I mean, it is the house my mom and dad had built especially for us; it is the house that needed 4 bedrooms because we went from a family of four to a family of five, with the addition of my little sister; it is the house where my mom and dad would playfully lock us kids out of their bedroom, to no avail, because I knew how to pick the lock; it is the house where my brother and I would each stand on one of my dad’s feet as he danced with us, in the living room, to Randy Travis songs; it is the house where one of the other great loves of my life—our dog Miss Maggie May—was brought home to us and where I was put on video chat, for hours by her side, so I could tell her how much I loved her before she passed; and it is the house where a 17 year old Dane—my soon to be high school sweetheart and future husband—sat nervously on the front porch, with my dad, in order to respectfully ask him if he could date me. Father, as Miranda Lambert would say, it is “The House That Built Me.”

            I understand that it is the memories within the walls that mean the most, and I can take all these memories with me wherever I go. But, sometimes, I wonder if they would have been the same memories if it had been different walls. Probably, but even so, I wouldn’t have wanted different walls. Painters are coming soon to paint all the walls—the red kitchen, the green family room, and the yellow living room—a neutral grey. I know that will help resale values but, man, it won’t look like home. I have been having my mom and sister take photos of every room, so I can remember how the house looked forever. Over the past year, my family has also sent me pictures of the house decorated with American flags for the Fourth of July and pictures of the house decked out in Christmas lights. It makes me feel better that I will have all these photos, in a folder on my computer, so I can always look back at the house and smile.

            The move is just feeling so much more real. In a month, exactly, realtors and brokers will do a walk through before the house is put on the market four days later, and in a few weeks, I will be in North Carolina with my family. I have never been to either of the Carolinas, but what makes me feel better is my parents’ best friends live in the town they are moving to, so we will know people. It’s interesting because other than a tea at the Biltmore, and a few other touristy things, the trip will be geared more towards scouting houses in the new town and helping those who have not been to the new town, like my sister and me, to get a feel for the area. Honestly, it is weird to think that our family house will only be known by us, and the new home will be the house future grandkids will most likely only know. My heart is all over the place, Father. I don’t want my childhood home to be out of my life, but I am so excited for my family to go on this new adventure. Maybe visiting North Carolina in a few weeks will help my heart to really start loving this new chapter in my family’s life.

            In the meantime there are a few things I will lift up to you in prayer: First, that a young family would move into our house—especially since the backyard backs up to an elementary school—who will love and cherish the house as much as we did; second, that my parents, sister, and aunt would find a wonderful new house, in North Carolina, that is on a street with kind neighbors; third, that my brother’s household and my household—everyone living outside North Carolina—would have the financial means to travel to the new family home a ton, so we all don’t have to be apart too much; fourth, that each one of my family members would cherish the memories we have made in our family home but, also, look forward to the new memories we will make; fifth, and definitely not the most important, is that my eyebrow and eyelash hairs grow back a little quicker because the trip is coming up fast, and I am over here feeling a tad bit nervous; and, lastly, a thank you because I will be able to go home one more time before the move, and I will be able to say a proper goodbye to the house and say my “see you laters” to our wonderful neighbors (aka cul-de-sac family). That last one means a lot to me right now, so thank you for that, Father.

Always,

Your Daughter Kaitlan

P.S. Father, I am sure there are others out there that are going through a similar transition in life. Can you please help their hearts through the coming changes, and allow them to also look forward to the new chapter they are about to experience? Help them to cherish the old memories as they embrace the adventure filled new memories. Oh, and please, don’t let anyone’s struggle with OCD and Trichotillomania stop them from enjoying the new adventure either. Thank you!

Thank you for reading! If you are new, this is a chronological blog series. It is best read in order. CLICK HERE for the intro.