I am packing full swing right now. I am planning, labeling, taping, and wrapping. At the same time I am trying to slow it down and remember the two youngest members of our family. Both kids have always known we were moving. I have an all honesty policy about the nature of of our living arrangements. I'm hoping if I always tell them the possibilities, the up coming hardships, the exciting news along with the bad that they will feel like the are included in our decisions and not just an after thought. It's so hard to tell if I'm going about all this the "right" way or if I am setting them up for a life time of therapy bills and screwed up adult relationships.
Doing things the "right" way has been on my mind a lot lately. Recently Brad's grandmother died. He was extremely close to her and it was a tremendous loss for the whole family. Besides the sadness of loosing her and watching my husband grieve, I felt a panic to help my kids through this time so they will have a good foundation to deal with death and dieing. I remember when I was ten and my grandfather died. I knew it was coming, my parents explained about cancer and his condition. They read me a book about water bugs turning into dragon flies. The water bugs left behind in the pond missed their friends when they transformed and left the pond. But the dragon flies could fly high above the pond and still see and love the water bugs, even if they couldn't be with them any longer. It had a big impact on me. I can say in all honesty I have never looked up the life cycle of a dragonfly, I don't want to know if they start out as water bugs. I want to think the story is true, it makes knowing heaven is real easier for me. I tried to explain to Brad that times like this are big important milestone in the life of a mom. Of course he talked with the kids too, but finding a book and explaining death and heaven was primarily my job. I have two of the best kids on earth and I didn't want to fail them. They deserve everything I could ever hope to equip them with and so much more.
Tate is going along like nothing is changing. She loves to help me and thinks boxes are fun. She knows we are moving but doesn't know what it entails. Turner on the other hand remembers our last move and knows what this means. Turner also has friends now, real friends. He spends every day with our neighbor Will. They build forts, they play ball, and they talk. I know Will is going to be in our lives along with his whole family forever. They are woven right into the fabric of our family and we are all tangled up in theirs. I am going to miss my friends, but it's easier for me. I'll call, I'll Skype, and we'll use Facebook to stay connected. Turner just wants his time with his best friend, and that breaks my heart.
My boy is clearly going through the stages of grief, he's been mad, he's acted like it's not going to happen, and now he seems to accept that we are leaving. His holding his head high and helping me as much as he has tears at me deep down. He's seven and he already acts like a man. It's not that he wants to pack up and leave, but if he's got to, he's going to do it with out grumbling. He told me last night that he's not excited to move but he's ready to get there so we can start being normal again, I couldn't agree more.
Today I'll start helping Tate go through her room. Just as I did with Turner, I'll let her make decisions on what gets kept, what gets donated, and what gets thrown away. I am holding back my instinct to get rid of as much junk as I can. When I look at scribbles in note books and Ziplocs full of rocks I see junk. But when I ask my kids it's stories they've written about fun days we've spent together and treasure rocks they've dug up with their friends. What does packing one or two more boxes matter if it preserves my kids memories and happy reminders?
I know the next few weeks will hold many ups and downs. I have so many emotions going on right now but I'm trying to push them back and stay so busy I don't have time to fall apart. I'll try to act as normal and confident for the kids as I can. I'll try to seem like we are doing this the "right" way, in hopes that we are. But I'll know the whole time I'm already missing our normal every day that we found here in Macon. Our home is right on the edge of that moment when enough things are boxed up that it starts to sound hollow. The minute the home starts sounding hollow is the minute it turns back into just a house, not our home. The loss of that feeling of home is odd, and it drives me to quickly make my home somewhere else. I want my kids to feel comfortable and secure. So if I seem distant it's because I am racing to pack the happy feelings from this home and try to get it all moved and replicated in our next town. I'm busy trying to do this all the "right " way.
