Moving On

A few years ago when my husband and I began to consider joining our lives together permanently, we had more than a few discussions about where we would live.

Back then it was mere fantasy since our lives were so complicated with all of the detritus that we were bringing from our previous lives.

I had a large house in a suburban neighborhood. He had a very small apartment in a quaint part of the city. We often talked of how we wanted something closer to the funkier neighborhoods near downtown. The reality was that we needed some transitional time and space to get the kids used to our new arrangement. Marriage was a jolt for everyone involved.

So he moved in with me, and we made it work. In truth,  I wasn't ready to leave the house. This was the only move I had initiated. In my previous life, we moved often and  I was given no choice. Each time the call came, he (my children's father) left to begin a new adventure, and I was left to pack up the dishes and the memories. This house was my choice, my desire to give my children a neighborhood similar to the one where I had grown up.

There were sidewalks and big trees in the front yards. There were kids their age to play with and a safe, fun place to trick-or-treat. There was a large kitchen for creating delicious things, and a formal dining room for hosting Thanksgiving meals surrounded by family.

There was the perfect corner for the Christmas tree that was framed by the crackling fire, and a mantel in which to hang their stockings. There was a room for each child and plenty of room for their friends.
In short, it was my dream house.

But with one son gone, and another on the brink of leaving home to begin his college adventure, it's time to face the reality. The house is too big for our needs, and too much of a drain on our limited resources.

Another bittersweet moment of transition. I am somewhat sad at the thought of letting go of this dream, but excited to think of embarking on a new adventure. Today driving home from work I was suddenly reminded of an actual dream I had years ago.

My husband and I were in a beautiful room filled with sunlight that reflected off the honey colored wood floors. He was sitting at his piano working on a composition. I was sitting nearby in an armchair knitting with a cup of tea on the table next to me. The cat was curled up on the window seat and the a delicious smell of soup simmering filled the air.

I remember being filled with contentment and peace. This was the life I had dreamed of living. Perhaps it is time to make it a reality.