I’ve been trying to look forward, move forward.
Maybe because I only have a few days left, but I’m realizing the times I’ll miss spending with my mom. The outings with my nieces. Seeing Jack play with his cousins. Time with friends new and old. I cherish every part of if and I wonder how can this all be changing. Moves are a part of life, and so many people do them, but how do you move away from your best friends! I can sum up my sadness with this passage on happiness:
“There is no happiness like that of being loved by your fellow-creatures, and feeling that your presence is an addition to their comfort.”
That is what my family has been for me all my life, and what enjoyment it is to be around those who love me, and addition to see how much they love Jack. When I ached to have my own family, I loved my nieces and nephews. My siblings never treated me different as a childless woman. They valued me no matter what condition I was in. My mom has always been my dearest friend. I think through all the troubles I’ve faced, my family has been a huge part of my comfort, my strength. I think the root of my pain (I may be so vain to say) is knowing some will miss having our little family around.
I recently read this from “Memoirs of A Geisha”.
“Grief is a most peculiar thing; we’re so helpless in the face of it. It’s like a window that will simply open of its own accord. The room grows cold, and we can do nothing but shiver. But it opens a little less each time, and a little less; and one day we wonder what has become of it.”
My infertility grief has disappeared.
The death of my father grief is going it’s course. I miss him so much.
And I hope the pain of leaving my family will soften.
I believe good things will come from this move. There are new friends to be made and help that needs giving. I know the window of grief will open a little less each time, and someday I’ll wonder why I ever grieved at such a move. Until then… I guess I’ll keep moving forward.
With all our empty cabinets now, Jack has found new places to hide.
