The Man is in the military, so we’re no strangers to relocating. But instead of moving every two years like usual, we’ve been at this location for nearly four. This means that as far as the Maiden is concerned, here is the home she’s always known–the place she’s put down roots.
School, dance, sports, drama, camps, church, friends. The location of Target. Favorite parks. Her bike-riding radius in the neighborhood. That place where we saw that weird bird. The field where she and the Man fly kites. The river, and whether she can drain it and excavate it someday.
She’s gotten used to this place. So have we.
Also, this is the first move when we’ve had to think about our kid in terms of more than just whiny luggage along for the ride. She’s turning six, so all of sudden there’s all this decision-making about schools and kid-friendly neighborhoods and finding activities that she’ll fit in with and oh my gosh, just trying to make a new home that’s home in all the ways this place has been.
This weekend the 80-degree temperatures sent me rooting through closets for sweaters and coats to store away for fall. And that’s when it hit me: when we take these out again in seven months, it will all be over.
In seven months, all these questions and unknowns that are twisting up our lives and sanity will have been answered.
Kind of takes you aback for a minute, doesn’t it?
Then last night, we were looking at the Maiden, who had gone to sleep still wearing her ballet bun in the hopes that it would make her hair curly in the morning. (It didn’t.) She looked so . . . tall, all long legs and arms sprawled across the bed.
“I can’t believe she’s turning six,” I said.
The Man: “She’s a third of the way to being an adult.”
We’re driving ourselves nuts with all the decisions and questions. But the reality is this: it’s going to pass. By the time we next dig out the winter jackets, all these worries are going to be non-existent. In a year, they’ll be a distant memory, just a short blip in our own life story.
There will be new things to think about, new experiences, new decisions, new stressors. But that’s okay, because they, too, are finite.
Time passes. Things change. Everything is for a season, and all things come to an end.
But only so that we can make a new beginning.