I was reading the latest edition of Rhythm of the Home .....and it hit me. This feeling I have welling up inside of me. Somedays I want to cry and others I just want to pack what I love in the van and run.
"Spring is the season that always sees the earth exhale. The sigh of relief as color returns, trees bud, and flowers bloom is one that is welcomed with open arms after the long, dark days of winter. "
I don't share much about this part of life. It has been confusing, endless, difficult, even maybe a relief somedays. The last time I went to church someone commented that they didn't realize he was still there. My husband has been gone. For over a year. He went searching for a job when a family member found him a place. There in that other state. The one that is not at all like this one we have lived in for so many years. My children miss their Daddy. Our little one...he doesn't even realize it so much. He just says Daddy when the phone rings.
Poppy swinging at Grandma's House.
Anguish in deciding if we should move. Anguish in accepting fate or maybe finding a new place to bloom.
Ocean swinging at Grandma's House
There are tales of gypsy blood in my veins. Of a Grandpa who rode in a covered wagon. I never settled even when finally we came back to Washington State. The place my mother grew up. The place she called home. We move on. I hope the children see the adventure. I hope they really believe that home is where the heart is.
I have been holding my breath. Worried. Avoiding reaching out to God. I am on the verge of a Great Exhale.