Today is one of those days – one of many recent and one of many more to come – where life's new twists and turns have me walking out the door of several years of fond memories and unthought of heartache towards a future of Who Knows.
It isn't a fancy place, this house. And while smaller than many, it was enough; certainly more than many others hope for and at the end of the day it wasn't just stucco and wood and cement and shingles – it was our home.
This is the house that broke us, in many ways, though of course it's not only to blame – not one single thing is. But it was also the house of much happiness – where two of the three boys were born, where many Halloweens and birthdays and summers were spent, where Easter eggs were hidden and found, where dinners were concocted and birthday cakes created, where oranges were picked and eaten in the yard, where swingsets were built and ignored, where gardens were planted and bloomed, where Christmas trees sat (and fell), where life moved at a speed quicker than we could register – all inside these walls that were being fixed and patched and painted as we fell apart.
I slowly circle one more time in the living room. It still feels oddly full, even in its bareness. Though the smell of cardboard boxes and laundered clothes and nostalgia has left in trucks and U-Hauls, a vaguely familiar scent remains – the way the house smelled the day we got the keys – of vacancy and emptiness. It sinks in. The truth is, this house didn't break us. We did. And this house isn't haunted. We are.
It's hard to fathom that I'm taking one last look around our house and leaving it to go to my house. The newness of everything is jarring and yet exciting and the adventure of it all has its moments of hope and its share of fear.
I shut the door. I pause on the porch step, taking in this very moment, soaking in this change like sunlight on my skin, breath in my lungs. There's nothing left here for me anymore. Today is another reminder of moving onward, this time, literally. I remind myself: A house is a house but a home is what you make it so I have not just packed our clothes and photographs and books and toys but our memories too. They, though the heaviest of all the things to carry, are the easiest to move.
I know how all this change has in effect, changed you but I’ve watched you still be able to shine through it and I believe that is one of your greatest strengths. I’m excited to watch you turn your new house into a home and I’ll keep holding your hand whenever you need me to and even when you don’t.
Love to you. xoxo
If your experiences are like mine, very soon you will drive by that old house and wonder how it could have ever been “home.”
This was beautiful.
Loved this post, Megan. Deep.
Many many hugs to you. And spiced rum.
<3
By opening up to new possibilities, you have an amazing life ahead of you! Trust me, I just know it!
Love you, Megan!!!
I love how you are looking at the future and the seeing the beauty in change and newness.
When I stumble over difficult paths, I remind myself that everything happens for a reason.
Beautiful.
Sending you and the boys much love.
xoxo
Wishing you and your boys a HOME full of brand new memories. Hugs to all of you as you start this new adventure!
SO beautifully written, so many hugs for you.
I wish you SO much good and happy to come.
Moving from us to me is hard, even when it’s for the best. You’re one of the strongest women I know, and I have complete faith that you’ll be fine. But if you need to bend an ear, I’ve been there. Twice in fact. And I’d like to return the favor of when you were there for me, even though you may not have realized you were. Anyway. Much luck!
This touched me…got me right in the heart.
Beautifully written. Good luck to all of you.
It was two months ago this week I did this very thing. I’m so happy to be in *my* home. With my kids and our new routine. Love! So will you. xoxoxo
Gorgeous post. Good luck with all of it, boxes and memories alike.
Amazing post, sweets! The fact that what you have packed is so heavy means that there are A LOT of great memories. Here is to your new house and I hope that a lot more wonderful memories are created there. <3 you!
xoxoxo
I’m so sorry Megan.
It’s hard to to disconnect the one thing that you were very attached, even a house, you leave behind many memories and emotions, some happy others sad. But life goes on.
So sorry Megan. Sending you and your boys love and wishing you nothing but happiness!
Huge hugs, Megan. I only wish your new home will be everything you and the boys deserve. xo
I am inbetween leaving my past (our long-term home was sold almost a year ago and I’ve felt in limbo ever since) and going into my future (I leave our temporary house into my new house in 24 days), so I can understand where you are at. It is both fearful and exciting to leave the past and move to the future.
I wish both of us the happiness we deserve. :)
Love you Megan.
Good Luck with everything. And whatever you do, don’t forget to pack the Beaver’s baby!
BIG GIANT HUG.
Also? Here’s to making more memories (and yes, I’m inviting myself to help)
Love you.
Moving on is such a mixed bag of catharsis and regret and hope. I wish you and the boys all the best as you move forward to a new and better life.
Megan, I’m sorry to hear this! Sending up an extra prayer tonight for you and your boys, who even though we’ve never met, have shed quite a bit of light into my days on many occasions. God bless you guys!
This was so beautifully written. I wish you the best on your new journey with your gorgeous boys. Your necessary change will be a great source of joy in the future. Best of luck.
Perfect.
I had to come out of lurking for this… I went through the same thing when my husband and I separated. When I went back a few months later to pack up the rest of my things, I couldn’t believe how uncomfortable I felt in the house that I had made into a home for my family. It was a bittersweet moment, but it made me realize, as you said, “a house is a house.”
That was beautifully written and I wish I had been able to verbalize my emotions as eloquently as yours when I was going through all of that.
I love you. And I’m inviting myself over alongside Briya to break in your new joint with awesome memories. xoxo
So, so beautifully written. Touching. I’m sorry and congratulations, I guess. Here’s hoping for the best for you and your family in your new life. xoxo
This is so beautiful, I feel like I was there with you. And it’s so sad. I hate that you are hurting. Love you, my friend.
Nicely written. Remember, when one door closes another one opens. =) Cheers to new adventures!
Oh, I was totally not expecting that. Geez, I wish you and your boys all the best and good luck in your future!
What a beautiful post. I’m sorry, and best wishes in your new place. Look forward- I know you & your children, whom you so clearly adore, will be ok.
Beautiful post friend. Huge hugs.
I know exactly how you feel. Love.
I’ve been where you are and I felt the same way, even though I was the one leaving the situation. You have been incredibly strong and I’m proud of you!
Love to you and the boys!
Painfully beautiful
Beautifully written. I’ve been in your shoes. Five years ago I left our home and moved into MY home. It was difficult and I thought I’d never overcome those feeling but I kept telling myself “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” and “this too shall pass”. Just stay strong and everything will turn out fine. Good luck to you and your boys!
This is beautiful writing. So from the heart. I’ve known what has been going on with you, but just read this post for the first time. You’re a courageous woman and a strong one. You’re creative and emotive and I just admire you so much, Megan. Glad to call you a friend.
Somehow I completely missed your split. Figuring it out now, though. I’m so sorry! It’s not an easy thing to go through, for sure, and will take time to adjust to new life. You will get through it, though, and so will your boys. Hang in there!!
This is beautiful.