I apologize for not posting last week. We are very close to buying our first home (closing date is one week from today) and things have been crazy. Blah, blah, blah. You’ve heard it all before 😉
Right now, my sister, brother-in-law, niece and mom are all here visiting us for a 10 day stint and it’s been glorious having them around. It’s truly bittersweet because I love watching the cousins play together and I think how much more they would get to do that if we didn’t live 3,000 miles apart. And it’s all becoming very, very real for me as will we soon own a home. For the first time.
Before this, as renters, it felt like we were super mobile. Is it fun to move? No. But, when you rent a home or an apartment or a condo, you call up your landlords and say “X” date is when we’re moving out and that is that. We have done this MANY times. When I was 18 I moved away from home for college. When I was 22 I moved into an apartment for grad school. When I was 24 I moved to NYC for a job. When I was 25 I moved to Connecticut for a different job. When I was 26 I moved to Seattle so my then boyfriend could go to grad school. When I was 31 I moved to Cambridge so my husband could do a post-doc. And, when I was 33, I moved to Portland so he could start his career. Now I’m 34 and about to move again…into a house that we will own.
This feels very final and very scary to me. I don’t love change and I loathe the act of moving, but the thought of staying in one place for quite a long time (especially a place that is so very far from everyone we’re related to) is taking it’s toll on me. I don’t think I would feel this way if we were within a day’s drive of any of our parents or siblings. But we’re a long, long way away from them and now it’s clear that that is going to be permanent. For the first time it’s hitting me that this is how our lives are going to play out, and watching the cousins play so happily together only makes it worse.
As I think I’ve said here before, I grew up on THE SAME STREET as my grandparents and three sets of aunts and uncles. And the rest of my extended family lived within 30 minutes of us. I always thought that my children would get to see their families at least once a month, and had hoped that it would be twice a month…but now it’s turning out to be between 2 and 4 times a year. This is all being solidified with our home purchase. I know I should be rejoicing to finally own a home (since I’m only about 10 years behind most people I know). And I am excited to be able to do whatever we want to our house, but there is a big part of me that can’t believe we’re signing up for a long-distance relationship with our families. For forever.