It's funny, I knew when I moved in, I wouldn't live there long. I had the feeling all along that my time there would be 3 to 5 years, tops. At least that's what I thought, that's what I told myself to keep from getting so sad. You see, I had to move away from my kids and grandkids for a time. And it was pure torture. I hated it. I cried. I prayed. I begged God to let me move back. And I knew that eventually, I would move back--however, it just wasn't happening fast enough for me. At least I thought that way 3 years ago. And then something happened to me at a women's conference called Triennial. God got ahold of me, (that's what I like to call it) and He did a major attitude adjustment on my heart and all was well with the world--for the last couple of years.
And then it happened. We sold our house.
I didn't really like my house at first. For one thing, it wasn't a 1928 Tudor-like my old house. It was smaller and newer, and it wasn't in the right town! So, I held things against it. I blamed it for a lot of stuff. I'd mutter under my breath--you know, whiney stuff, complaining stuff, silly stuff. I didn't even realize then that I was dealing with an ungrateful heart. Nope, it was all about me back then.
After my little attitude adjustment though, God began to show me some things. Little things. Things to be grateful for. Like for example--when I'd have friends over, and I would gaze around the room and see their faces, I would feel such a deep love for these friends of mine. Sitting there in my little house, all cozy, an appreciation would surge through me, and it would almost bring me to tears.
Or when a neighbor would drop by for coffee, we'd sit and visit and I'd think to myself--I just love my neighbors, and again, I'd almost be brought to tears. I remembered all the Christmas parties, and summer patio parties, and BBQ's and I would get all nostalgic. Yes, I did have some wonderful times in that little house. I had just forgotten. Silly me.
And then it happened. We sold our house.
A few days ago, we drove away for the last time. My husband and I each in our separate cars, suitcases in the back, dog tucked it, moving van loaded--we drove away, and I had to say goodbye to my house. And I did. I literally said out loud, goodbye house. And then I cried. Some of those tears were happy ones, full of awesome memories, and some were sad ones because I didn't realize what a great little house it had been to me until the last couple of years. Pulling away, I asked God to forgive me. And I thanked Him for all those wonderful times in that sweet little house on the river, in the most beautiful little town that I had ever lived in, with some of the most loving friends and neighbors that I had ever known.
Yes, I said out loud (so that my house could hear) goodbye house, and thank you for taking such good care of me.
Saturday, July 25, 2015
Friday, July 17, 2015
A Piece of Me
I read an interesting quote a few days ago, and in my opinion, it was true insight into whom I have become over the last 5 years, it read;
"You get a strange feeling when you leave a place like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you miss the person you are at this time and place because you'll never be this way ever again"
Azar Nafasi
Without even realizing it, I have changed. I have grown. It's one thing to acknowledge that throughout our lives as we mature. However, it's quite another to believe it, at least it is that way for me.
So, to break down this quote, to simplify it and absorb it, I guess I need to analyze my feelings and emotions and thoughts. One by one, line by line--for yes, it has moved me that much.
I do get a strange feeling when I leave a place. I wonder if I'll be remembered and if I'll be missed? I wonder if I've done all that God had intended me to do? Or have I missed the mark? Did I bail too quickly? Did I pray hard enough, long enough? Was I kind, loving, forgiving? Or is that strange feeling sometimes upon leaving--one of regret, guilt, and shame? These are the things I've pondered of late. Have I accomplished anything at all during my time in that "place?"
Will I miss the people that I have grown to love? Yes, I truly will. For in just 5 short years in Chicagoland, I chose to love people--to open myself up to them. I was vulnerable, open, and defenseless to all manner of criticisms as well as compliments, etc. And yet, I believe that over time they loved me back. They became my friends. They grew to understand, accept and love me too. We, in a sense, became like family. I will miss these family members more than I could ever express in words. Do they know that? Can they feel that? Do they hear me when I tell them my truth?
I want these friends of mine to understand how much my knowing them has changed my life. I have become better, different, more loving and caring. I have "grown up" because of them. I have changed. Yes, even at my ripe old age--I have matured in a more significant way that I have in the past. Or maybe it's just that I recognize it more. Maybe that's it.
Yes, I will miss the person whom I have become because of them. I like me better now. I am more comfortable with myself. Why? I think it's because they accepted me for who I am. With all my quirks, and weirdnesses--they liked me anyway. Which in turn, made me like me--just a little bit better. Since knowing these friends, I have also accepted myself--and believe me that is huge. Huge! For I am the hardest person to please and accept--when it comes to me. I am hard on me. I don't measure up, I never have. Self-confidence is not my strong suit. I do however have confidence in my God, and sometimes people tend to get those two mixed up.
So this place in time, this road in my life, will never be traveled upon again. And maybe that's a good thing. Maybe I've gleaned all that I can from "this place", maybe I've done all that I could do, said all that I could say and prayed all that I could pray. I guess--it's done.
I will leave a piece of me here. And I will take a piece of all of you with me. Forever. No one can ever take it away. No one can ever replace you. No one can ever change me back. For you have been left with a piece of me. And I think, no, I believe that that is exactly how God intended it to be.
Thank you, my friends, for taking such good care of me. I'll miss you forever.
"You get a strange feeling when you leave a place like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you miss the person you are at this time and place because you'll never be this way ever again"
Azar Nafasi
Without even realizing it, I have changed. I have grown. It's one thing to acknowledge that throughout our lives as we mature. However, it's quite another to believe it, at least it is that way for me.
So, to break down this quote, to simplify it and absorb it, I guess I need to analyze my feelings and emotions and thoughts. One by one, line by line--for yes, it has moved me that much.
I do get a strange feeling when I leave a place. I wonder if I'll be remembered and if I'll be missed? I wonder if I've done all that God had intended me to do? Or have I missed the mark? Did I bail too quickly? Did I pray hard enough, long enough? Was I kind, loving, forgiving? Or is that strange feeling sometimes upon leaving--one of regret, guilt, and shame? These are the things I've pondered of late. Have I accomplished anything at all during my time in that "place?"
Will I miss the people that I have grown to love? Yes, I truly will. For in just 5 short years in Chicagoland, I chose to love people--to open myself up to them. I was vulnerable, open, and defenseless to all manner of criticisms as well as compliments, etc. And yet, I believe that over time they loved me back. They became my friends. They grew to understand, accept and love me too. We, in a sense, became like family. I will miss these family members more than I could ever express in words. Do they know that? Can they feel that? Do they hear me when I tell them my truth?
I want these friends of mine to understand how much my knowing them has changed my life. I have become better, different, more loving and caring. I have "grown up" because of them. I have changed. Yes, even at my ripe old age--I have matured in a more significant way that I have in the past. Or maybe it's just that I recognize it more. Maybe that's it.
Yes, I will miss the person whom I have become because of them. I like me better now. I am more comfortable with myself. Why? I think it's because they accepted me for who I am. With all my quirks, and weirdnesses--they liked me anyway. Which in turn, made me like me--just a little bit better. Since knowing these friends, I have also accepted myself--and believe me that is huge. Huge! For I am the hardest person to please and accept--when it comes to me. I am hard on me. I don't measure up, I never have. Self-confidence is not my strong suit. I do however have confidence in my God, and sometimes people tend to get those two mixed up.
So this place in time, this road in my life, will never be traveled upon again. And maybe that's a good thing. Maybe I've gleaned all that I can from "this place", maybe I've done all that I could do, said all that I could say and prayed all that I could pray. I guess--it's done.
I will leave a piece of me here. And I will take a piece of all of you with me. Forever. No one can ever take it away. No one can ever replace you. No one can ever change me back. For you have been left with a piece of me. And I think, no, I believe that that is exactly how God intended it to be.
Thank you, my friends, for taking such good care of me. I'll miss you forever.
Monday, July 13, 2015
Week of Lasts
This week is my week of lasts...last week to, fill in the blank. Last week to have lunch with a friend, or go to dinner with a neighbor. It's my last book club, my last get together with my Bible study small group friends. And it's my last Sunday at our church. Yes, it's my week of lasts. I will never again walk this same path again, it is the last. The end. And that makes me sad.
It has me waxing nostalgic. I am reminded constantly of other times, past times, my memories are flooding through my head at warp speed. Almost to the point of being unable to stop them. 5 years of a mountain full of wonderful memories of awesome friends in a remarkable town.
Between the town, our church, our neighbors, and friends--between Chicago and outlying suburbs--I believe that we have been blessed abundantly. It's overwhelming. For it is my last week to--cook in my little one butt kitchen, sit and look at my river, walk through my neighborhood, walk the river walk, eat at my favorite restaurants, read in my living room, use my famous coffee bar, Friday morning coffee with friends, neighborhood parties, and oh so much more. Yes, it is a week of lasts. I am so very thankful for all I have been blessed with, all those I've met, all that I have experienced while living here. I shudder to think of what I would have missed out on had I not moved here 5 years ago.
It's funny though, I remember moving here 5 years ago, kicking and screaming (OK, really just crying and pouting) I hated what was happening to me. I was being torn from my family and friends--moving to parts unknown and I was desperately heartbroken. And here I am again. Almost (but not quite) in the same position. And although this time I am not kicking and screaming, I sure am crying. My heart sure is breaking. I hate to leave my little life here. I have grown to not only love my friends, but I have grown to love my little town. And now, I have to say goodbye. I have to leave...again!
So yes, this is my week of lasts. One of the saddest weeks of my life. I hate goodbyes. I hate leaving. I hate this week of lasts. I really do.
It has me waxing nostalgic. I am reminded constantly of other times, past times, my memories are flooding through my head at warp speed. Almost to the point of being unable to stop them. 5 years of a mountain full of wonderful memories of awesome friends in a remarkable town.
Between the town, our church, our neighbors, and friends--between Chicago and outlying suburbs--I believe that we have been blessed abundantly. It's overwhelming. For it is my last week to--cook in my little one butt kitchen, sit and look at my river, walk through my neighborhood, walk the river walk, eat at my favorite restaurants, read in my living room, use my famous coffee bar, Friday morning coffee with friends, neighborhood parties, and oh so much more. Yes, it is a week of lasts. I am so very thankful for all I have been blessed with, all those I've met, all that I have experienced while living here. I shudder to think of what I would have missed out on had I not moved here 5 years ago.
It's funny though, I remember moving here 5 years ago, kicking and screaming (OK, really just crying and pouting) I hated what was happening to me. I was being torn from my family and friends--moving to parts unknown and I was desperately heartbroken. And here I am again. Almost (but not quite) in the same position. And although this time I am not kicking and screaming, I sure am crying. My heart sure is breaking. I hate to leave my little life here. I have grown to not only love my friends, but I have grown to love my little town. And now, I have to say goodbye. I have to leave...again!
So yes, this is my week of lasts. One of the saddest weeks of my life. I hate goodbyes. I hate leaving. I hate this week of lasts. I really do.
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