A week ago I had the opportunity to watch a group of little kids while their parents went to their OCPM graduation ceremony. It was different than previous graduations because I knew these people. Almost everyone is leaving the state. And most of them are doing it for good. It is odd to view their drama, one that unfolds so publicly. For several of them it was the last time that they would go to our church building. Their families were there and they were able to share some of the memories made here. Watching their end, and subsequent beginning, made me think of our own impending end and new beginning.
It also made me think of my last ending. We left Texas nearly two years ago. I remember that day, taking a picture that isn't even on this computer(we got this computer after we moved here in 2009), to document our last time living at my parents house. We stood right outside the tree in the front yard. My dad took the picture. I still feel sad that I don't get to wander back to his office and ask him if we can go to lunch. Or offer him some toast and eggs for breakfast. Or tell him he has to eat vegetables at dinner time.
I remember marking the end of the street, which I had run literally hundreds of times on hot, humid Texas mornings. I remember passing the grocery stores where I learned how to coupon. I remember leaving Dallas, and then Texas. And that was my end. The border of Texas. It was still hot, but not Texas hot. And Texas was no longer home.
Home was somewhere new. A place I didn't know yet. A place without memories or family or friends. When we got here we were so blessed to have half the ward come and move us in. We nestled into our first house, our first house that we own. And started making it our home.
And just two short years later I am looking forward and planning how we are going to move out. I am already nervous to put it on the market and look around and making lists and checking things off of things that we need to do. I guess when you know that you aren't going to be somewhere for a long time it is hard to really settle. It's more like recovery time before you next sprint.
It also made me think of my last ending. We left Texas nearly two years ago. I remember that day, taking a picture that isn't even on this computer(we got this computer after we moved here in 2009), to document our last time living at my parents house. We stood right outside the tree in the front yard. My dad took the picture. I still feel sad that I don't get to wander back to his office and ask him if we can go to lunch. Or offer him some toast and eggs for breakfast. Or tell him he has to eat vegetables at dinner time.
I remember marking the end of the street, which I had run literally hundreds of times on hot, humid Texas mornings. I remember passing the grocery stores where I learned how to coupon. I remember leaving Dallas, and then Texas. And that was my end. The border of Texas. It was still hot, but not Texas hot. And Texas was no longer home.
Home was somewhere new. A place I didn't know yet. A place without memories or family or friends. When we got here we were so blessed to have half the ward come and move us in. We nestled into our first house, our first house that we own. And started making it our home.
And just two short years later I am looking forward and planning how we are going to move out. I am already nervous to put it on the market and look around and making lists and checking things off of things that we need to do. I guess when you know that you aren't going to be somewhere for a long time it is hard to really settle. It's more like recovery time before you next sprint.
No comments:
Post a Comment