At Reflection and A Move. At Last.

Two weeks after the "official" move ... the final box made it out of our old house. Technically, it's still in the garage ... but details, details.

The past few months have been busy. Really busy. We placed an offer on this house and it was accepted (and we moved) within 8 weeks. In short sale world, that is unheard of. I asked Ben, almost daily, if I should keep packing boxes ... were we REALLY going to move? I'm not sure I believed him until we signed the papers. And still, I wander around our new house and am just amazed at what God has provided.

But today, as my mom and I loaded the potted plants into our van, I began to "process" our old house. Life. Memories. The ugliest side yard on the planet that each family member transformed into the perfect spot ... my "English garden." Today, I had a slideshow play through my head. Ben and his dad spent days constructing a patio and laying a drip line. My grandparents and mom planted and dug hole after hole. I remembered back to our first house that Ben and I lived in and how hard my grandpa worked to make it look just right. And then our last house ... the same thing. And as my mom and I started to attack the front yard today ... I realized that for this house, for this yard ... I'd probably be showing it to my grandpa ... because at 86 ... he will be directing the hole digging instead of doing it himself. I'm not sure why that makes me so sad, except that it just pointed out to me how life progresses and changes. And for me, I got a glimpse of family ... through my garden. There are still roses at our old house ... planted with a lot of tears to remember our Grace. I hated leaving those behind. And as strange as it sounds ... I might go back and dig up the fence my grandpa built to hide the garbage cans (albeit cemented into the ground) and give it a new home ... as that tangible reminder of all that God has provided.

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So. At last. Our last few days in the old house.

Hiding in empty cabinets.

And wandering around ... directing traffic with some Mr. Potato Head glasses (to look official).

And since there were so many boxes ...

There was always someone waiting to be found.

And in the midst of chaos, we had a birthday (with everyone's favorite shirt) and my tragic purchase ... good thing we now have a basement and the sound is muffled.

And a few more than four candles ...

And a kitchen that had acted as a loading and unloading zone ...

And a husband who showed off the "toilet within a toilet" concept to the boys and they were surprisingly enthusiastic with their response ...

And a youngest (soon to be middle) child who wanted to leave his "colorings" on the only place he's known as home ...

And finally ...

At last ...

It was moving day ...

And now we're here.

And new memories are being created.

And the old ones are being processed.

And I'm thankful. (A little bit sad ... a lot TIRED) but mostly ... REALLY thankful.