I don’t like change. I’m a grownup so I should be okay with things not staying the same, but I’m just not on board with the fact that change is a part of life. For example, when I was a kid my dad shaved off his beard. I had never in my 8 years of life seen him without that facial hair and it freaked me out. I told him what I thought of that bold move. The hair grew back and we were friends again. My mom wasn’t very happy with me because she liked his clean, hair free face. Oops.
Moving to new places sends me into an absolute tailspin. I’ve done it five times but each one was a painful learning experience. I would find myself longing for my “former” life, even if my “new” life was so much better. It’s hard to explain. I’m not shy or afraid of new experiences. I guess I just get comfortable and don’t want to deal with getting comfortable again.
A new change is coming my way very soon and it’s pretty huge. My mom is moving to a house three miles away from mine. She will be leaving her home of 31 years, the only home she’s ever owned and the one she and my dad designed and had built together. My siblings and I were raised there. It’s where we’ve shared the very best times and dealt with some terrible losses. The hill behind that house is where my dad and his friend Bill killed a four foot long copperhead and where us kids would go sledding on a snow day. The only thing that stopped us from crashing into the heat pump was a deep ditch. The driveway is where I backed my mom’s car into another deep ditch (you may notice a theme here…) and to this day I only back up with my head out the window when I’m there. The wooden bridge (now concrete) from the road to our property was where my Cavalier Z24 nearly went through a huge hole into the waters of Troublesome Creek. (In my defense the hole was NOT there when I went to town and I did find it weird that dad was running down the driveway but hey, hindsight is 20/20). Stephen asked for my hand in marriage in the living room and my children have played in every inch of that house.
This change is going to be hard for my mom in ways I can’t imagine. She is moving away from her church and dear friends. I admire her strength. Every corner she turns she is reminded of my dad and I know that part is comforting. But it’s time to start a new adventure that dad would love and live in a new house near family. Time for that special house in Emmalena, Kentucky to be as welcoming and loving to other children.
We don’t always get to choose when or how things will change but we can choose to be thankful and do our very best to appreciate what change can bring our way. So I will look at my mom’s move as a gift and I will leave a note to the new owners of her house to just let their kids play in the ditch. They will end up in there at some point anyway