I love my house, I’ve been there half of my life, and it’s time to go. I am as scared as I am excited. I am sad to leave behind a place where my children played, and I played with them, where we grew up together. It is a place where life was filled with laughter, children’s storybooks, fort building, lemonade stands and skinned knee’s which required bandages and kisses.

My children are now grown, and I walk among the echoes of what they were, and they come back every once in a while filling my heart with the gentle strength of who they have become, and they stir the energy in my heart and in this old house I call home. I know its okay to let this house go because my memories are in my soul which is tucked within me but it still feels strange and frightening in some ways. Maybe it’s like the fear just before I had little hands to hold for the very first time. Exciting, but I’m unsure as to what the future would hold. 

Now I’m here at a crossroads looking back and looking forward and I know its time to create a new me in a new space letting life grow in unexplored ways, in spaces I’ve yet to find on roads I get to walk meeting new people and designing a different routine with faces I’ll smile at each day. It’s a good opportunity for me to grow up in a different way and in doing so I’ll find my way again.

The little hands that will come and play will like this new house. We will fill it with laughter, storybooks, forts, games and all manner of silliness that I’ve never known before and when we are worn out we can all nap at the same time on big beds wrapped in blankets made with love while we listen to Mozart just like I did with my little people long ago … long, long ago … last summer?

Would you like to walk with us on these new roads as we find our way?