In fewer than two months, I will be living in the same city and state as my dear parents. This decision has been a long time coming, and my closest friends know what’s led our family to making this choice. Moving across the country is the biggest thing I’ve ever done, and through bringing this together I had to learn to take the good with the bad.
My heart has felt a lot like a battlefield in the last few months. My emotions are a swirl of happiness and remorse, fear and courage, anticipation and resistance, comfort and pain.
I think that as humans we have a natural instinct to want to hang on to what we know and love very closely. Parents smother their children because of it, we rely on emotional crutches like inanimate or material objects to get us by, and breakups go bad because of it, certain relationships outlast their true expiration because of what we once thought we knew, etc. What I’ve tried to work on through this process is acknowledgment of the fact that in order to allow good to come into your life, you have to make room for it. Just like if your hands and arms are full, you cannot hold a gift when handed to you, we can’t accept God’s blessings without letting go of what we need to first. Though I am letting go of my physical presence here in San Diego, my history here will always remain.
As I look forward, I happily anticipate all of the things I will be able to do after the move – things I haven’t been able to in the past six years. Dinners at mom and dad’s house will become normal again. I dream of family vacations with my husband and child(ren) and their grandparents. I want to go on date nights with my husband and not feel guilty that my child has become a burden to one of my friends for a few hours. I want to be able to look into my mother’s eyes as she tells me advice, or sit on the deck eating my father’s barbeque chicken. I want my family to be a car ride away, and not a plane ride. I want the nightmare that began for me six years ago to finally end. And now, it’s going to.