I teach people about change all the time, yet fail to remember the impact until it slams into MY gut.
We are leaving our country home of eight years. It is a home that is beautiful, tranquil, and one about which I’ve complained. The complaints were fairly petty, like the fact that I had never lived so far away from civilization that a pizza couldn’t be delivered.
What was I supposed to do? Cook?
My husband and I are witty but not handy, and somehow fixing things on five acres wasn’t helped by Oscar Wilde quotes. Being in the country was a little beyond us.
So, we are leaving. . .
But last night, I crested the hill into our neighborhood that reveals horse farms and fields and tree tops. As I looked over that crest, something hit me and I realized it was the same feeling I’ve had when watching movies like “The Wizard of Oz” and “E.T.” I was already feeling homesick.
While in this house, our dog grew older and less spazzy, while my daughter graduated from High School, went to college, and on to New York to be a writer. My son got a job and cheered with us during Redskins games and smashed his fist into the refrigerator after a big loss. There are still five knuckle marks on that refrigerator that we’re handing off to someone else.
My husband and I spent hours on our deck watching the beauty found in unpopulated areas. We watched spectacular Red-headed Woodpeckers, beautiful hummingbirds, bright red cardinals and a multitude of goldfinches as they frolicked in our backyard.
We had a fox visit a few times with her two pups in broad daylight, making us both smile and worry that she might be a little rabid.
But not everything was perfect. . . .
I remember the day I sat on the deck reading a book about “The Conjuring,” when a bird flew into my hair and died. I threw the book away immediately.
Then there was the day that I watched a dove peacefully eating our birdseed placed lovingly on the ground, when a hawk silently descended and took the dove away. I felt like we set her up for a hit.
We also found out about my husband’s cancer at this house, and I had three tick bites that required megadoses of antibiotics, and my husband ran over our cat.
But I’m leaving, so it is with rose-colored glasses that I look back. Because sometimes a little grieving is good for the soul.
So I’ll cry a little more to shake loose my fears, and then we’re off to a new adventure only a few miles away. And there we will make more great memories, because in life we generally find what we’re looking for.
Except for the dove. I’m not sure she was looking for what found her.
Sign up below to receive 48 FREE Energizing Messages.
8 comments. Leave new
I understand your sadness. We left our family home five years ago and I still miss it – especially during holidays. But damn, I wish I could have walked away with the sense of humor as you. You just crack me up. Thanks for the smile…and best of luck to you in your new home. I have a feeling it will quickly fill with love and laughter and joy.
Thank you, Lisa. We moved a lot as kids and quickly learned the importance of laughing through tears. I appreciate your comment, and totally get it.
Hey Donna, I understand the feeling of loss you are having with your move back to civilization (although when I started reading your blog today, I misunderstood and thought your “country home” was the USA, so was relieved to hear you didn’t decide to go save Gorillas in Africa or something). I’m on 2 1/2 acres, but there is pizza delivery! Have fun in your new home closer to town. Crows hang out there too:)
Melissa: You still make me laugh. My biggest concern is the proximity of neighbors. I might just get in a fight in my first week. 🙂
We are living the dream here on our four acres in our little house in the Woods. Mr. Graysome pussycat has to live inside because of fleas and rabbis and so on and a beautiful Hawk that would love to feed her family with that fat Russian Blue.
I feel for you having to leave for we live knowing that one day we may not be able to manage living in the bush. My husband is 80 this year.
Great to read
I think you all can be there as long as you want. I have to admit that we are not great in the country, but have enjoyed our stay there. I hope that some day you all get to just step right into heaven from your four acres!
I lived in the “country” for 13 years. Colorado Springs, CO, where we had deer, raccoons and bear in our backyard pretty much every day. I loved the views, the beauty, the calm and the serenity. Of course, there is nothing serene about finding a deer carcass half eaten by a mountain lion on your back lawn. I miss it, but not enough to move back. I cried like a baby when I left, and cry still thinking fondly of that house and the memories and growing we did there. But, as you know, life moves on….with us or without us. I’d much rather be part of the moving river! xo
Tammy: You speak my truth. We were sisters in another life, I have no doubt. And you make me laugh, which is better than gold. Thank you!