The room in the picture

Moving: Part 1

So I realized after posting this picture last night on Facebook that a lot of people were either unaware that we were moving or not sure where we were going (and wanted to know). I also realized that I had made a lot of references to packing, ect., and never made any concrete statements about the where, when or why. A lot of people that I care about read this blog, so I need to fill some folks in!

In the above picture, the room we are standing in was is the room where I grew up. I slept there most nights from the age of three to age eighteen, on trips home from college and for the year after college when I started my job and became engaged. See how it's pastel pink in the first messy picture? It's been that color since I was seven.

When my mom got sick and had to have surgery, she made that room her "nest."  My twin bed in there was high, reaching up to the window like a window-bed. When  I wasn't with her last year, she said that being in that room was like me being there, it made her feel cozy and safe.  I was blessed to have a job with an understanding boss and co-workers who let me shorten my daily work schedule last year to spend extra time with my mama. When I came over to the house, a lot of times she would be sleeping in the bed back there; I would climb in there with her and cuddle on her...usually we would both go to sleep. I'm so glad we had that time, and so glad that Dane and I were in Gainesville, in an apartment so close to my childhood home. We originally didn't know why we felt called to stay, but now we do.

At the end, the hospital bed was in that room, and that is where we said goodbye.

After that, there was a flurry of forced cleaning which pushed me, Dane, Corinne and my dad into doing the undoable: the nightmare of throwing stuff in there to make room for the people who would be coming by after the furneral. It really was like a nightmare, actually. It haunts me. Layers of piling stuff over the circles in the carpet where the hospital bed had been, with my mom in it, only the day before. Her layer of medical supplies. A layer of her fun, feminine stuff. Under that, a layer of my stuff from post-college, college, highschool, and beyond. It was like all the good had been tainted.

Aside from when we were throwing stuff in there before the funeral, I couldn't go in that room for months. Then, everytime I would go in, I would start screaming or crying. The worst thing to me was the little "Get Well Soon" balloon that refused to deflate for about six months. My dad and a sweet friend went in there about a month ago and threw that balloon away and took out the hospice supplies. That helped.

But I've been going through her clothes to make more space over the last couple of weeks, and that's been hard. Hard, but it's gotten easier.

Dane and I went in there and finished knocking that room out last night.  It is fresh. Everything in it has been sorted/removed (true, made a big mess in the other room we are using as storage but that is a project for another day). The baseboards and walls have been cleaned and spackled. Carpets vacummed and steamed. New window treatments. Most of all, it has been painted (by my skilled husband) a bright, robin's egg blue that Dane and I both loved. For the first time since I was seven, it is a new room. Best of all, the bad taint is mostly gone, the good memories remaining.

So if you've been paying attention, you've figured out that Dane and I are moving into my dad's house in Gainesville. You would be right, you skilled inferencers. It has actually been our plan to do this for awhile, but we've had trouble with our lease. The rent has gone up since we signed it, and it is more expensive than an apartment should be at this point. We thought we'd be out in December, but then it turned out that we were supposed to stay through February. So February is almost over and here we are.

 It just makes sense to move in at the house. I love my dad and so does Dane, I mean we don't just love him, we love spending time for him. He's a wizard (see previous post).
 Also, he has a lot of wonderful friends, but I know it's also been tough on him being alone in an empty house sometimes. It'll be nice to have some more movement and voices in the house. We also want to help out with some stuff around the house, which is easier if we are actually there. We know we'll all have our space, too. Dad is going to be in Mississippi sometimes, and Dane and I are looking forward to being a little free-r financially so we can visit some friends in Birmingham and Chattanooga.

  We are making space at dad's this weekend and moving the big stuff, and staying in our apartment one final week to pack up our stuff that will go into storage. It's really exiciting! We've prayed and thought long about this decision. It is not really super-permanent, but for now it definitely seems like the best thing. I'm really looking forward to being closer to my dad and sprucing up my childhood home. :-)