Wednesday, December 7, 2016

The Heartache of Moving

December is an emotionally charged month for me. I think the holidays tend to be full of memories for people - both happy and sad - and I know that it's a good rule of thumb to be gentle and kind to one another this time of year.

But you guys, I am an absolute hot mess right now. If you are a close friend of mine you're probably nodding your head right now because I've been texting you with how off I feel. How right now I've been pretty sad and confused. How this move has left me more off balance than I've ever felt on a Navy move. How I just feel out of place, out of touch, and swirling in this snowy unfamiliar landlocked place.

Part of moving is trying to go through old things and give away or throw away what is unnecessary. This time I have dove deeper than in previous years (probably because my kids are older and I have more time to do thorough purging). The pictures are hitting me hard. The memories are hitting me harder. And I'm having trouble piecing together the joy of this season matched up against how empty and un-rooted I feel. I look back over the last 20 years with my husband and just can't believe that we were that young. Where has the time gone? What have I done that is good with that time? Did I absorb and enjoy my kids as babies enough? Did I ignore the boxes and just lay under the tree with my kids enough? Am I enough?

Thanks to Facebook I often get reminded of what I've done in past Decembers.

At this time in 2010 we were packing up our newborn and 1 year old and heading to Virginia.

At this time in 2012 we were packing up our 2 and 3 year olds and heading to Kansas.

At this time in 2013 we were packing up our 3 and 4 year olds and heading to California.

And this year we just arrived in Colorado.

My December Facebook memories are full of boxes, long car rides, and filling final days with "bucket list" items. Right now I'm sitting at my desk looking out on a snowy white lawn. And I'm so confused about how less than 2 months ago I was laying on a pool lounge chair watching my kids swim with their friends under the palm trees. I feel like Dorothy after the tornado. Where the hell am I?

The change is getting harder for me as I get older. I'm finding it harder to place adventure ahead of my homesickness. And I honestly don't even know where I'm homesick for at this point, just that I am longing for HOME. A place that is consistent and smells familiar and that houses our memories for longer than 2 years. Not vanilla rental homes that I have to squeeze my furniture into and pray it doesn't look too Frankenstein.

And then I feel guilty.

I love my life. I have so many things that I know I am incredibly blessed to have. My kids are healthy and happy and if I'm being honest they are handling this move a hell of a lot better than I am. The people make this life amazing. My kids are learning about the diversity of this country and how to live with many different kids of people, climates, and backgrounds. I'm proud of them and of how accepting and resilient they are. Their hearts are wide open, while mine is crying because it's feeling lonely.

At 35 I guess I'm just not as breezy. This won't be a post where I end on some high note and profess how attitude is everything. It's a post where I say: If you just moved and you're sad, well, you're not alone. You are normal. It is okay. This is HARD.


Hi, I'm Jill!

Hi, I'm Jill!
Extrovert. Mom of two. Wife of a cute Naval Aviator. Lover of wine. When I'm not chasing my two kids around town you will find me writing, taking too many photos, and researching the ten future areas the Navy could potentially (but probably won't) PCS us. We are fish out of water, landlocked at 7,000 feet. For now.

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