As everyone probably knows by now, I am moving.
And I'm psyched about it; this change has so many positive aspects.
But I would be lying to say that there is a big part of me that is hesitant to leave.
I've moved before: D.C., NWA (version 1.0), KC... [obviously I have a thing for towns/regions that are known by acronyms]. This shouldn't be any different, right?
But when I moved back two years ago to finish my grad degree, I didn't realize it that my family's life was on the brink of a drastic change.
My grandparents, who lived within biking distance of my home when I was younger, fell into bad health. Southern friend food and bacon from home grown hogs finally caught up after 80+ years of enjoyment, which has led to by-pass surgery and debilitating strokes. As a result, my grandfather (who has always been the towering state policeman from my childhood) was put in the nursing home and my grandmother (who swore she would never live with her children) moved in with my parents.
All of this happened while they were kicking and screaming in dissension. Because despite their health, or lack there of, they are still my beloved grandparents and I am convinced that these people have never given less than 100% in anything in which they have ever been involved.
This is the man who, after retirement, helped start a volunteer program for other retirees to go around the US helping to build churches for congregations who couldn't afford the cost of labor. A sixty year old man up on a roof in the middle of a central Texas summer? Think about that next time you're "exhausted" from the heat after visiting your favorite outdoor mall.
This is the woman who is always making something. First, her children's clothing when the department stores were too expensive. Then countless parade floats, and quilts, and embroidery projects for county fairs through the years. And even this past week, when she learned that her dearest friend passed away, she soothed herself by staying busy in the kitchen to feed the family, hoping that this was one last thing she could do to say "I love you," to her friend.
{I shot all of these picture over the past weeks while they were in the process of getting the house ready for renters. Sad process but so happy some of the memories were captured.}
And because of all this change. this move is different.
I'm almost afraid that when I leave the memories of what "home" has been like will never be the same once I am gone.