Friday, September 19, 2008

Beginnings and close hugs

A week from today we'll close on our new home. Right now we're calling it our 'vacation home' but really it's just our home that we won't live in for awhile. We won't go there to be on vacation, but rather to get ready to make it home.

Today the previous owners sent us photos of crape myrtles blooming in the front yard, and closeups of the front flower beds. My flower beds.

Such a strange feeling, this being somewhat here and somewhat there but not completely in either place. Sometimes I find myself anxious for it to be a year from now, this 'slow-goodbye' part behind me, and life there settled into some kind of normalcy. Much like any woman who has given birth at least once, knowing what she faces yet again, I find myself wanting to get through the hard part, have it behind me.

Yet I don't want to rush any of where I am right now - our last fall with the Pennsylvania leaves that are such a magnificent display and how our street looks as we drive down it, through the scattered gold and red leaves, then those snowy days when everything just shuts down, and kids grab sleds and packets of cocoa are opened, and fires built, and whatever you had planned gets set aside for a day or so, til the snowplows and salt trucks come. Then the thaw of spring, when tulips and daffodils poke up their brave heads, only to get coated with one more dressing of the white powder. Spring here, after the long winter, must feel much like fall does to southerners who have been baking in the sun for months. Then there are the weekly get-togethers to watch favorite TV shows with our daughter and her family, coffee with friends, and mornings of spending time with our precious little grandson. Seeing the delight on his face when he first spots Papa or Grammy, oh how I don't want to rush any of that by too quickly.

I know the months will go by quickly, whether I will them to speed up or slow down. Still, I already find myself, even now, when I hug my daughter goodbye, holding her a little longer, a little closer to me, trying to soak it up and save it for another day. I know I can't but it doesn't keep me from trying. She's a grown woman, a wife, a mother, but when I hold her close to me, she feels pretty much like my little girl.


Diane@Diane's Place said...

Frickin' frackin' Blogger just spontaneously ingested a long comment, so if there ends up being 2 of 'em feel free to delete one, Bev.

So many things are going to be bittersweet until you make the big move. Last Fall in PA, last Winter, last Christmas with the family there....

God was so wise to only allow us a day at a time. That's all we can say grace over anyway.

Hope you have a great weekend, Bev.

Love and hugs,


Renna said...

Aw, I'm feeling sad for you. I know there will be the thrill and excitement of the new home and new friends to be made, but I can't imagine how hard the goodbye's will be.

Jen said...

I think she always will be your little girl. I'm excited for your new indenture in life.

Barb said...

I know how much you dread hugging Leslie that one last time before you leave PA. Of course, there'll be visits back and forth, but it won't be the same. Even if they live three doors down, it's still not the same, is it? But this move is so well planned, it allows you to cherish every single moment together. I'm glad you're enjoying this last season there.

I know exactly what you mean about that look on the baby's face when he sees you and Don - I see it often and it just makes my heart swell with love.

It's easy for me to imagine you one year from now. But I'm not the one who has to orchestrate this move. My part is easy - I just have to support you as you go through all these emotions.


Kelly said...

So beautifully written, Bev. I'm sure in the years after your move you will re-read this post with fondness of this bittersweet time in your life.