That's what I keep telling myself.
It's just a house, Kate.
Yet, I am so sad to leave it.
I remember how we would drive by every single day during the building process, trying to figure out what work had been done that day. We would sit on the curb across the street and stare at it in silence, full of excitement.
"We're going to fill that house with children," we'd say.
And we have.
13 1/2 years we've lived here.
We chose the cupboards and the counters, the tiles in the bathrooms and carpet colours.
My mother and I wallpapered the living room, side by side.
I know all the floorboards that creak when you walk on them.
I can remember the day I brought each baby home from the hospital.
I love watching the sunset from my kitchen windows.
Letting go is so hard.
I am surrounded by half packed boxes and I feel like my house is in chaos.
I know that moving is the best thing for us, yet I am struggling with sadness and feeling so overwhelmed. There is much to be done.
One step at a time and it will get done. Just keep going, Kate, one step at a time.