After living in their current home for almost 25 years, my parents are moving. I feel......a little sad, but mostly relieved. Their neighborhood has changed for the worst over the past few years; they've even had a bullet whizz through their bedroom window.
While I feel so much better about their safety, it still feels strange that I won't be able to visit the home I first moved into at age 10. In fact, I've only lived within a three mile radius of the apartment where I first was born. I think my husband has a hard time understanding this. He moved around a lot growing up and even lived for 15 months in Papua New Guinea.
My parents are actually paying rent on their old home for two weeks while they wait to close on the new house. My 92 year old grandmother will be living with them, along with my brother for a little while. A few weekends ago, Steve suggested checking out at least the outside of the new house, so we met my parents and took the drive together.
Even though it was a chilly, slushy day, the kids had fun slushy around the back yard in their boots, and running down the small hill in the backyard. They even found a small opening under the pine tree, their "tunnel," to crawl through. Jared climbed up the tree, with some help from Steve. I don't think he'll need much help for long.
Afterwards, we took a drive around the neighborhood, swung by the college where my mom works, and saw some horses at a stable around the corner.
While I'm going to miss going back to the old home and remembering all the fun times growing up, it makes me smile to think of all the memories we'll make in this new home.
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