Last night was the first time I cried about the move. I knew it was bound to happen, and like a kid in a water balloon fight, I have been taking each corner with caution, awaiting the moment when the balloon would hit, the tears would flow.
I’m not typically one to cry at transitions. I prepare myself to, but the tears never come. My last dance performance, graduations, goodbyes. I wait patiently for the tears but they never flow. This time seems different though, I haven’t been able to put my finger on it, but I had an inkling that this transition would involve tears at some point. I thought maybe sealing the last box, pulling out of the driveway, maybe my last day at work.
But it was none of those. It wasn’t a big romantic moment, it was cleaning my kitchen after serving a meal, one of my favorite things to do, something I am increasingly aware I will do very little of in the near future.
The day I saw my house and put in an offer I had a vision for it. There’s a verse I love in the Bible that says “And now these three remains; Faith, Hope, and Love, but the greatest of these is Love.” This verse was the slogan for the College of Nursing I graduated from, it has also been somewhat of a mission statement for my family and me. The downstairs of house has three rooms in a row, one opening into the next, a front sitting room, and living room, and finally the dining room.
The kitchen runs parallel to the living and dining rooms. Each room has a door way with the original woodwork around it. I decided that day that each would have a word over the doorway to symbolize my vision for its use.
The front sitting room is Faith. The room has my favorite chair and many windows, a place to sit and read. It is a quiet spot for the quiet reflection that builds or restores faith.
The next room is Hope. This room has the couch where I have spent countless hours with many friends discussing our dreams, plans, hope for our futures. I have learned of engagements, pregnancies, and career changes, all from this room. We have discussed plans, revised plans, let go of plans, laughed and cried.
Finally, the dining room, Love. I have long been a believer that one of the best ways to show love is to serve people, and what better way than to serve a meal, right? It is one of the things I have loved most about my home, serving the people I care about. Sharing good food with a good bottle of wine is hard to beat.
And so there I was, doing dishes, with tears streaming down my face after making dinner for Tristan and his dad, days before Tristan leaves for Connecticut for good. Its odd to say goodbye to people and wonder if you will ever see them again, especially knowing that if even if you do it will never be the same.
This life I have had here, and loved here will be over now. I am so excited for what comes next, but I guess I have finally left denial and I am starting to grieve my loss. Both the loss of the opportunity to serve, as well as the loss of some of the people I have shared life with so closely.
To those I have served here, I have loved each and every one of you. I hope you have felt as loved by me as you are.