I opened the car door and stopped to take a final look at the cute cottage— my home for the past six years. My husband and I bought the house because it was perfect for our lifestyle then– back when I stopped cooking dinner on Tuesdays and date nights were much more frequent. When you’re in walking distance of trendy bars and restaurants and about a two-minute drive from downtown Charleston, who wants to eat in?
About a month later, as I sat in the rocking chair on my new front porch. I had a vision. I saw myself holding a child. A month after that, I was pregnant. When we learned we had a healthy baby boy on the way, we painted his room yellow and decorated his walls with a sun, palm tree and fishing net. I nailed wooden letters above the crib: Dillon’s Beach Shack.
When our son learned to walk, we built a white picket fence (no, I, technically, did not build it myself) to keep him out of the street. When he got older and learned to ride a bike, I drew an imaginary line near the end of the driveway. “Do not cross!” I warned. Now, his younger brother is ready to follow in his footsteps. I can’t believe my second child will be two this summer, and he’s already trying to climb over the fence.
I smiled at these flashes of memories as I sat down in the driver’s seat and closed the door. I felt the tears filling up in my eyes, and on a whim, I jumped out of the car and ran to the neighbors’ house to say goodbye. They must have been out walking their dogs, and that’s a good thing, because I didn’t really want to cry on their doorstep.
I like to linger with my goodbyes. On your way out, if you stand at the doorway a few extra minutes, chances are, I will hug you twice. But during this scene, I felt my writer-ly self observing the moment– and she was very aware of how life seemed to be kicking her out the door. Two PODS were already sitting in the driveway– the renters were moving in the next morning. “It’s time to go.”
And so I left. I pulled away and let the emotions wash over me– the strange and unsettling feelings of transition. The moment when you’re in between staying and going.
An hour later, at the new house–still a mess with boxes and displaced furniture–I felt something else. Something familiar. I took the kids outside. Dillon rode his bike and Blake toddled down the sidewalk. And as day turned to dusk to a brand new morning, new neighbors stopped by to say hello. Family and long-time friends brought lunch and helped us get settled. I recognized the feeling, because no matter where life takes us, it’s the piece that doesn’t need a permanent address. Turns out, it travels very well.
Wherever we go, we take ourselves with us. That inner radar that lets us know when we are home.
During life transitions, do you look back over your shoulder? Or keep your focus straight ahead? How do you know when you are home?
Very sweet post, brought back many memories for me thinking about the various moves that the lovely Miss TK and I have made. Every move means new friends and we get to keep our wonderful old friends as well. We love all the places we have been and have friends everywhere that we stay in touch with, sure makes going someplace new a lot easier.
You are even luckier, moving locally means everything is still in place for you and you get to add new friends at your new home.
That’s exactly right, Lou. I’m just trying to get used the grocery store. See Michael’s comment below.
This was just lovely…your little cottage home looks exactly like where I want to live! Maybe I should come and buy it
I’m forever looking over my shoulder. Which is why I’m always stumbling instead of making a smooth progress toward the next thing. Sigh.
But I’m wishing you and your family smooth sailing and many happy years in your new home!
I do a lot of looking back and forth. I, too, love our tiny house. I’m glad we’re keeping it as a rental. If we had sold it, I would probably be a lot sadder than I am now. So… if you’re ever looking for a house down South…
Once again, you pulled me in and kept me there. I remember when you bought the place. Facebook pics of your new home and I can live vicariously thru you. We are still homeless, but we really like it. I’ve discovered we like small homes. You learn alot when you spend 3 months with your kids in a Hilton Hotel suite. I now know more about Pokemon and Cartoon Network than i did before. Enjoy your new home…I loved that feeling of moving to a new adventure. We will return to Egypt as soon as the police return to the streets. I hope it’s soon. I’m ready to head home. Love, Kathy
I’m just glad you’re safe! I’d love to have the Hilton’s housekeeping.
Very sweet and moving. (Get it? Moving?! I crack myself up.) We have lived in our house for almost 20 years now. Yes, 20 years! We moved her before my daughter was born because of the nearby school. We thought we would be here 5 years or so. Well, that was a long time ago.
I have no idea the emotions that are going to go through when we finally ever do move away from here. Both kids grew up here. We watched neighbor’s kids grow up here. We have spent by far most of our married lives here. It will be strange.
And as for you, think of this. The best thing – you moved closer to me! We may even run into each other in Bi-Lo now.
I took a stroll through BiLo this morning! I’m missing the Teeter… BUT I’m thrilled to be closer to you. How’s the Coffee Exchange?
I’m interested to see how long we stay. Shawn and I only have the ability to look about five years ahead. Time will tell if we stay here longer than planned. I love our new street and don’t want to think about moving anytime soon.
Lovely post. Welcome to my neck to my neck of the woods.
I see a coffee date in our future…
Angie, wonderful blog, and spot on about moving!! Can’t wait to be invited to the new house! If you need any help, please give me a call.
Yes, I need help right now. I need someone to vacuum, unload boxes and watch the kids while I take a nap…
Just kidding. I won’t put you to work. I’d love to have you over to sit on the porch and chat!
You know me. I’m just like you. I feel so sorry for things when I leave them behind. Even if they are inanimate objects with no feelings, I imagine them to be hurting anyway.
You and your family are going to build a beautiful life at the new place, infused with the spirit and memories of the little cottage you left behind. xo
Andra, those yellow walls sure seemed very pitiful and lonely.
Aw, this made me tear up. Here’s to making new memories in your new house!
Thanks, Abby! Moving with two kids… you should try it sometime. It’s a breeze. Easy as pie.
It was so good to see you and your son at Mellow Mushroom the other day.
I had fun playing with your son and showing him the new trick. As I told you the other day, Katy and I have moved almost as many times as the years we have been married. That would be 21 yrs. LOL… I should be a professional mover since I have so much experience at it. Now, I HATE to move. When we moved from Goose Creek to Johns Island and then back to West Ashley in the last two years we hired 3 men and a truck and let them do all the heavy lifting. Moving is more work than I would care to even imagine.
I am happy for you and your family and I hope that this move is a positive experience. I loved your blog post. Very touching indeed.
Thank you, James. Three men and truck are getting our business next time! Shawn and I have been married almost 11 years and have moved 9 times… counting temporary apartments in between bigger moves. Manual labor is for the birds.
Thank you for entertaining Dillon at the MM. It was great to see you and Katy!
Angie,
What a lovely cottage. My house is too large. We’re ready for something smaller and everything on one floor. Lifestyles change. Our first house would probably be a good fit for us again. Life is a circle.
I remember walking through the empty rooms of our last house. One of the movers walked in and asked me if I was sad. I started to cry. I told him I had many memories of raising my son in that house. So, there was a little looking back and a lot of looking forward.
I wish you all the best in your new home. I’m sure you’ll create wonderful memories with your family.
Bella
Oh, I love the look of that sweet cottage, and the sound of your old location! I am not sure what exactly makes me feel at home, all I know is that some places feel more so than others. For instance, when I moved to Bath in England many years ago I did not know a soul there, yet I immediately had a strong sense of belonging and rootedness. Having moved more than 20 times over the last three decades I know that I am definitely drawn to the west and my geographical heart home is the Pacific Northwest. For some reason I love moving, the sense of new beginnings never ceases to excite me. Mind you, despite my track record I am now trying to be more settled and as I get older I do have a genuine desire for a more permanent home. Will you share photos of your new house, I am curious
I know when I’m home by a certain peace when I walk through the door. Life is good there. Best wishes on your new home, hope you have many, many happy times there
Joanne, thank you! Bella and Kersten, you inspired my next post….
Hi Angie,
It’s hard to leave places that mean something to you because no matter how carefully you pack up, you always leave something behind. Remember that beautiful line from the Summer of ’42 (god, I love that movie.)? Life is made up of small comings and goings, and for everything we take with us, there is something we leave behind. It’s so true.
I look backwards and forwards because I like to blend my life, learn from the past, inviting in the future and never forget where I’ve been. We have many homes in our life and that feels right to me. The old antique colonial I live in now will one day be in my rearview mirror as well.
Lovely sentiments. G.
A lovely comment– I’m trying to share this perspective with my 5-year-old. He’s adjusting pretty well, but he’s also been sad about the move. He’s only 5, but he’s old enough to understand bittersweet.