It's Bittersweet

I've moved a lot of times in the 30 short years I've been on this planet. And while I've moved for myriad reasons, I've learned that moving typically is a bittersweet process for me.

First, I HATE moving. Detest it. Loathe it. Truly believe that, if there is a hell and I go there, mine might very well consist of packing and moving each and every day for eternity. Yet, at the same time, I actually like moving. It offers a fresh start. A clean slate. A chance to clean, purge junk, rearrange, and make new resolutions on organization.

So, why is moving bittersweet? Because, while I do love the clean slate, I know that I'm leaving behind some good memories and knowledge about my house that no one else may know. Sure, the memories will come with me, but sometimes actually being in the place where the memory was created is powerful.

I have so many good memories of my house on Walnut Street in El Reno:

It was my first house in a new state and offered me a totally new start after a bad experience.

Jason and I spent several nights sitting next to the chiminea on my back patio, getting to know each other.

The night I was sitting on my front porch, talking to a friend and watching a thunderstorm, and the tornado sirens suddenly sounded because a tornado had been sighted over the prison. All the while, I'd been clueless about the severity of the weather.

The first friend I made here was my next door neighbor. He moved a couple of years ago, but our friendship has endured. I have good memories of sitting on the patio with him, grilling burgers and drinking wine, and running around the back yard with his kids.

After being here for about a week, it stormed in the night and I woke up to let Tess out, only to be barreled over by my other neighbor's Bloodhound, Amos. Apparently the fence had blown down in the night and Amos, as friendly as could be, wanted to come inside. (Stupidly enough, I was scared of him at the time.)

It was here that I celebrated my first "big" holiday away from my family. Due to several reasons, neither Amanda and Jeremy nor I were able to go to our respective homes for Easter three years ago. Instead, we spent it together at my house, and instead of being sad to be without our families, celebrated the family that we have in each other.

The memories here are great and I'll carry them with me forever. What's really cool, though, is that I'm moving on to a place where I will create even more awesome memories with those who I love. In fact, I've already started building memories there, even though I have yet to officially move!