Moving day is drawing near. On July 1 we will leave the city behind and start fresh on our farm. Tomorrow the packing begins, the cleaning and the purging and the organising. Tomorrow I start putting our current life away in boxes. Tomorrow I start saying goodbye.
While the excitement inside of me is enormous when I think of what lies ahead, I can’t help but feel a sort of sadness at leaving our tiny city home behind. This is the first house my husband and I have ever owned. We began our married life together here, we planted our hopes and dreams in these gardens. All three of my children were born in this house, Lynden and Raina in the living room and Robin in my bedroom. Our family’s short history lives within these walls. Our memories are housed here with us. This is where it all began for us.
But the time has come. Our dreams have outgrown our home and tiny yard. Our children are outgrowing our home. Our complaints outnumber the things we like about this little piece of the city, and it’s time for us to leave.
So tomorrow the packing begins and I continue to count down the days until Moving Day, the day when our life will change for better or worse, when we plunge into our dreams with our eyes wide open.
I’ve got my fingers crossed.