|It has been my experience|
that the adventure is nearly always,
"The moving company could only do it Monday. They'll unpack on Tuesday."
I felt a thousand bricks land on my heart and saw a tidal wave of anxiety on the horizon. My hand landed softly on my chest, and pressed hard to hold back the wave. I sat for a moment in the stillness.
That's all I have left here.
Like a fish out of water, I forgot how to breathe for a moment, but I fought to remember that Grace held me and holds me still. And a strange mix of excitement and sadness rose up from inside of me, swirling together like the jam I mixed into my yogurt this morning.
Then chaos and a thousand memories swept over me and I felt, for the first time, that we were leaving this place. It is one thing to know--because I have done that for some time--but quite another to feel as I am doing now.
It's not holy ground, but it feels like it sometimes. So much of my heart is tied here, so many memories are anchored to these buildings and walkways and trees, and there is a part of me that wonders if I'll ever return, if it will ever be the same again?
On the threshold of adventure, I know, it has to feel this way.
A grain of wheat has to fall to the ground and die, before it can realize its full potential. So, here we go. We leave and we let this part of our lives live on in memories, because we trust and we know that the next part is worth it.
Handsome and I will be moving close to our families, where we both have Engineering jobs (PTL!), and, hopefully, an exciting future in the next stage of our lives.