Thursday, December 9, 2010


I thought this would be the week that I started focusing more on the new world than the old, but it turns out the old one wasn't finished with me yet.

Remember a long while back when I shared a lot about my ideas on grief? We're right back to that. With all the busyness and distraction of the actual move and settling in, not to mention visiting the old world a couple of times, I realize now that I had managed to feel the minimal amount of loss associated with this life twist. (I'm still searching for the proper term to describe what just happened as "move" and "change" don't seem to fully embody the situation.) I still had plenty of feeling, but it was just a pressure release of the feelings beneath.

This week, I have slowed down. There is little or nothing to do to continue the settling process. I knew I was stalling in putting up those pictures, but I didn't realize I was stalling the grief.

But here I am, looking out at a view that I genuinely appreciate. The animals were placed strategically by Sophia. In a room that is warm and feels like home. With a girl playing quietly with her animals on and around me. And here it is. Loss. Grief. Confusion. Hope? Yes. I've got it all. With a stuffed nose and a clogged ear. There is no point in describing what I feel here. You have all felt it at one point or another. A sudden recollection of an unfulfilled dream. A sweet memory of a moment impossible to recapture. Eyes filling with tears for no reason in particular.

It's going to be a long winter. Strap in. I'll try not to drag us all down. There is plenty to share that is beautiful and funny and exciting. I'll let you in on all of that too. But I have to be real. I'm homesick. For my sick neighbors, for my healthy neighbors, for my friends, for my church, for the gym I haven't been to in months, for Sophia's preschool, for Hy-Vee and my stove and my back porch. To name a few. Okay. I feel better. Here's photographic evidence that I feel better. Sophia took this for you.

Hope I didn't make you feel worse.


  1. I hope that blogging continues to be a way to help ease the ache of homesickness. Thanks for putting it out there, sad but real - I'll take it. Miss you too! Casey

  2. I think grieving is even more tough in the winter. I'm sorry that your change had to happen at this time of year. I too am mourning your move. Hope we can catch up soon. This phone tag is getting ridiculous! Miss you.