Packing

At first I found packing to be exhilarating.  It was so much fun to see items go into a box, knowing that when we opened it later it'd be fun like on Christmas morning.

Now that I'm past the easy stage and entering the 'can I live without this for a few months' I have noted that it's almost like a slow death.  The death of this current place in life.  Even though we are most excited about what is coming next, there are still many dreams that will not see fruition in this home.  Plans for a basement master, larger deck to house my outdoor furniture, and tree house expansions, for example, are no longer talked about.  Then there are the memories of how we bought the place and how we've slowly molded it to a home over the past few years.  Our two boys were conceived in this house, and one was born within these walls.

Call me a sentimental fool, but as I'm packing up kitchen spices and equipment that I won't see for a long while, I'm saddened by the process.  Of course I can always open the boxes up if there is an item I really do need to use.  I think though that ripping the tape off the box is akin to removing a bandaid--no matter how you do it there is still some stinging involved.  The item will still have to be placed back in the box and I'll still have some lingering sorrow over leaving.

Change is hard, but I know it will be worth it in the end.  It always has been.  Some of the dearest people in my life have entered because of change.  For now I'll just remind myself of the great adventure we'll have, and the amazing new friends who will join me for the ride.