Disassembling Home

Five weeks from now, we will be in our new home in North Carolina. In the meantime, there's aplenty going on with both the physical aspect and the mental preparation for our move halfway across the country.

We spent the greater part of the weekend packing, which is an emotional event in itself. It's when you go to move that all the little things you've accumulated over the years start to re-surface, from childhood toys and old clothes packed away for the last move to the little odds and ends inadvertently tucked away in hidden niches. Most of it holds little more than sentimental value.

As I'm breaking down my home and putting everything I own in Chiquita banana boxes, it's those sentiments that trigger a deeper realization. Beyond acquiring "stuff," there's the intricate memories associated with every item. Of course, there's too many to list. Let's just say I'm exhausted after the seemingly endless walk down memory lane these past few days.

And with these memories is the direct tie to a single thought: We're doing it. We're really doing it.

We're leaving our family, our friends...the people that have made it worth living here this long (our lifetimes thus far, actually). It's terribly depressing to imagine not having daily contact with loved ones. At the same time I tend to get this burst of optimism that what we're doing is right for the sake of our own family unit, and for future generations. We've got to do what we've got to do, and hanging around here would mean sacrificing so much.

It sure is looking empty in this house, the place we've called home for four years. Not the same as decades of memories, but enough time to establish a meaningful spot on our life timeline. We came into it as newlyweds, each working two jobs to make ends meet as we expected the birth of our son. We literally moved into this house the night before Clayton was born. I stayed up until 6 a.m. making sure everything was in its place; every frame on a wall, every piece of clothing in a closet, every decoration on a shelf. Now, we leave as seasoned veterans of parenthood in a more comfortable stage of life.

Yeah, it's looking empty around this house. But it's okay. I'm ready.