“In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.”
Today is moving day.
Yes, the last week and a half we’ve spent moving this and that from here and there. People keep asking, “Have you moved yet?” –to which we have no short answer, since yes, our stuff now occupies the house (in boxes still), but we continued to occupy the bedroom in my parents’ home.
Today, we put that last piece into place.
We packed up all our remaining necessities and have shuttled back and forth, moving everything. The last load of laundry is drying. I scrubbed the bathroom, have bedding in the washer, and vacuumed the bedroom. When the laundry finishes drying, we’re moving out.
I feel this strange sadness at leaving home, even though we’re only moving 3 miles away and I eagerly anticipate living on our own again. Yet the close, familiar, comfortable relationships and habits we’ve developed over the past 6 months will, I think, prove difficult to break. In short, I’ve really enjoyed living with my parents again, after we worked out a few kinks, and I’m sad (and happy) to be leaving. And I’m going to miss having the dog so constantly in my life.