Tag Archives: moving

Steal Away Home

When I decided to leave The He, my first inclination was to go home. Pack our crap and burn up the road. I wanted to take my ball and run home as fast as I could. It is coming up on a year since moving out and the urge to leave is still there, but The Kids…not so much.

My life still feels up for grabs when it comes to leaving Atlanta. I have been here for over 10 years and this was the first year I actually explored and enjoyed the city. I still have so much to see and do here, and there is a growing appreciation for the things it has to offer. When I go home, it feels slow and sleepy. But then if we move home we will also be moving all of our activities with us so would it really feel so slow and sleepy?

Part of me also feels by not moving home I would let down the people who want us to come back. The other part of me feels by moving home I might possibly be leaving behind various possibilities not yet unearthed.

My parents are getting older and so are the children. Luckily for them they have had summers of Carolina livin’ and their relationship with The Grands has not suffered because of distance. But if we stay, what will they miss out on? No one is guaranteed another day…what/who will they miss if we stay here? On the other hand, they have been here all of their lives. We (The He and I) managed to do something for them I was not able to experience as a kid: They stayed put. The Girl and Boy stayed in the same elementary school K – 5. They lived in the same house since they were babies (until recently). They were stable. This past year their stability went out the window. So, in light of Life changing events, do I stand still and hang on to their last little bit of stability? Or do I plan to throw caution to the wind and leave?

Quite honestly, I have 5 years left. The Boy will be off to college in 4, the Girl off in 5. If they want to stay, as their mother, I can sacrifice that small piece of time….right? Home will be there and I suppose if God sees it fit for us to leave, we will. Some days though…just some days when the weather is beautiful and the wind is blowing just right, I want to be home. I want to be in Mommy’s kitchen listening to Daddy mowing the grass, watching the Kids do kid-at-grandmas-house things. I want to have get togethers with the Crew on Friday nights and see the Nephews. Some days I just want to be with family and not so much on my own. This is quite a conundrum to be in. *sigh*


Stop This Train

Stop this train. I wanna get off and go home again.

I stood in the shower, hot water burning , John Mayer bursting my heart and reducing it to tears. I had spent the evening removing the last of the boxes and trash from the Old House. It was a bittersweet experience to say the least.

Growing up it was always an unspoken expectation to be responsible, get married, have kids, buy a home–live a life of normalcy. When you get older and that very clear Leave It To Beaver vision gets muddied, you still tend to hold onto some of it. Not everything is murky…right? I held onto the marriage and the kids and the house and the dog and the cat. The picket fences. I protest about it now, not wanting kids or marriage, but I know deep down I wanted the forever and the family. It all blew up in my face though, for reasons beyond my control (but that’s just life isn’t it?) and last night I stood in the shower, skin boiling, tears streaming at the thought of my unstoppable train.

…Can’t take the speed it’s movin’ in…

The Old House is just a structure. I get it. It could have caught on fire, been crushed by a tree, or fallen down around us at any moment, but it was home. It was our family accomplishment. It was the one place where we could go and shut the world out. The Christmases, the birthdays, the random dance fits in the living room, the romantic nights, the literal stormy nights are nothing more than vanishing memories. They are no longer housed in the walls of the brick and mortar that once housed our family.

….I know I can’t but honestly won’t someone stop this train….

On warm summer nights or slightly cool fall nights, I would walk out onto the driveway and lay down. I would put my hands behind my head and star gaze. The children would come outside and find themselves laying next to me–one on each side–staring at the night sky. Last night, for the last time, we laid in the driveway.

The Girl lay across my stomach, the Boy lay close (but not too close– he has an image to protect) and we were silent each reflecting the loss. It wasn’t just the loss of our home, but the loss of what we all thought would be forever. We lay there silently realizing there was no stopping our train and no matter how much we wanted to we wouldn’t be able to get off and go home.

Once in a while, when it’s good, it’ll feel like it should….still safe and sound and you don’t miss a thing til you cry when your drivin’ away in the dark…signin’ Stop this train. I wanna get off and go home again. Can’t take the speed it’s movin’ in….I know I can’t cause now I see I will never stop this train…