Half of my world headed out on a cross country drive this past Monday to our new home in Massachusetts and I am sitting here looking at empty space. It’s strange. There was a life here; we lived it for six years, and last weekend it came to an end. It feels abrupt, even though it’s been months coming and I’ve done my best to enjoy a long goodbye.
Now, sitting in all this emptiness, struggling to decide what to feel first when sadness, anxiety, excitement, loneliness, hope, fear, and determination are all clambering for my attention, one thing has become clear: once I let go and leave Idaho, I’ll need to get a life. I have no idea what to expect or how it will all come together, I only know (from my nine or so previous moves) that it won’t come together by itself. New lives, if you want a good one, that is, take crafting.
So I’m going to document our efforts, because that’s what I do, and you can follow along here, if you like, as we carve out a place for ourselves on the East Coast. : )
Of course, before I can go get a new one, I have say goodbye to this one. So for now, you’ll find me here, living every last Idaho hour to the fullest. As it turns out, there’s no such thing as a long enough goodbye to someone, something, somewhere you love. A desperate wish for one more day still squeezes my heart. What can I say? It’s been that good of a life. : )