I started this post as ” Dear change, I don’t like you very much,” but then it occurred to me… this blog is meant to embrace joy. Not only in obvious events, but also the ones where joy is fully suited in camo. This isn’t that. This time shouldn’t be tear evoking. In fact, It should be a celebratory occasion….but I blink back some sadness none the less. Because, you see, change and I have never been very close. I hide from it whenever possible. Instead I cling to its nemesis: routine and familiarity…but I’m here now change. I am ready and the branch has been extended…
So it was like this…. like when you get your eyebrows plucked, hit the gym for the first time in a year, give up cheese, quit smoking…or any other painstaking process done in the name of self improvement. You come in all brave and excited ; imagining what the final product will be like. Then, it actually happens and it hurts. You have growing pains. You are sore and you are mad; tantrum mad. Although you’re relieved to know , you wonder why you even tried. Because in your mind you were just fine before and all this refurbishing seems like nonsense now.
This analogy most accurately explains all the sensitivities I have as transformation and I hold hands…..We are moving. I’m leaving my beloved Tipp hill after 17 fine, fun, fulfilling years. It is all glorious and exciting. But it is also stepping on the heels of losing my dog; another unsolicited, conference call with change.
Vinny stood for a time in my life. A time when I made the decision to take full responsibility for another living being….a time of independence, a time of becoming a grown up; sort of. Tipp hill represents the same. A time when I left the nest for the last time . A time when I made new friends who have become old friends. A place where life is a walking cliche of the TV show “Cheers” because everybody really does know your name. I am compelled to leave those times behind now and being forced never is favorable….but, I must march forward. I must chase change down and ask it to be friends.
As open spaces became harder to find in our house and we became engaged in an obstacle course daily…we knew it was time. When bundling, prepping and moving the kids to the on street parked car took longer than driving them to daycare…we knew it was time. When we looked around Tipp hill to find ourselves high school football players, reliving our glory days…we knew it was time. When our baby boy was born with special needs and we wanted him to have some back… it HAD to be time. Judah was the final straw. The camel has a broken back. It was decided that Judah will go to school with all of cousins. He will roll in the same district as the children of our friends. They will all be a force in Liverpool and when he enters high school, nobody will mess with Judah Craver.
So you see, all the logic signs are brightly lit arrows, leading us to the move …our new home is lovely too; really it is. But, no matter how you slice it, I still glare at change with distrust. I don’t do cartwheels over the extra space or the good deal. Instead, I am sensitive and sentimental and so I mourn all that will be lost. I linger on all that will be missed. I covet all that was.
I will be fine though. We all end up fine no matter what don’t we? A little more cautious maybe. A little more careful, pensive, protective, sensitive, sappy, possibly even jaded… but we all end up okay. Knowing that makes me more than okay. Mid mini-tantrum, our computer screen was like a beacon. I stopped to take in pictures scrolling of baby Judah in the hospital. Not hospital where my new baby was wrapped up like a taco. I’m talking tubes and machines everywhere hospital. That’s when the bricks came tumbling. This move is nothing. It is not a major event. It is a test where I will come out learning something. Not a battle to be fought. I shook my head as if to say “get over yourself.” That’s when I went to bat for change…for a change 🙂
I will be more than fine actually. I will be in love with everything new house, I know me better than anyone. If there is anything I am, it is self aware…so I know in time I will cannonball right into the future. That being said, the process cannot be rushed. I will not go quietly and embarrassingly, I will not go gracefully. Losing a piece of yourself, a part of your past, is hard, no matter how bright the light is that lay before you. So here’s to one for the nostalgic, sensitive ones. Our path waits for us and we must march on… but we cannot be rushed. I need a little time to contemplate on a bench nearby. Not to worry change, I promise I’ll catch up
