Sunday, December 12, 2010

Moving On

Moving . . .

Sorting through and packing everything in the house was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I wanted it to be like a band aid and just rip it off, but it was a slow and very painful process; a process I wouldn't have been able to do without the help of my mom. My mom, my instant friend the day she gave birth to me. The mother who lost a father while at the tender age of sixteen and later lost her child who was 19. The same mom that accidentally sat next to a stranger at the movie theater and started eating his popcorn instead of my dads! The mom we always teased but came to whenever we needed help. . . and she would always help. She was there to help me as I unraveled the various parts of our lives from various parts of our house and packed them away for future use. With packing tape punctuated with tears, the job was done.

Max, 7 yrs old

Max, 7 yrs old

Max, 9 yrs old

Max, 9 yrs old

"I like to surf. I like to stand on the board. My daddy is the best! daddy I ever had. After I surf, I am going to make a light saber."
Max, 5 yrs old

Ryan and I have dreamed about moving closer to the beach and sometimes would ask the kids if they would want the sand to be there back yard. Max would always say, "If we can pick this house up and put it on the sand, I would move." He loved our house. I did too. Saying goodbye to it was very difficult. As I walked through the completely empty house for the last time, I saw where we would say our nightly prayers together as a family of five. I saw the kids jumping off my bed and landing into a pile of pillows. I looked into the bathroom and saw the countless band aids that were applied and the blobs of toothpaste that were somehow always left in the sink. I saw the exact spot we found our missing hamster and the kisses that were given to it in relief. I saw the kids laughing on the couch as they watched Sponge Bob and Americas Funniest Home Videos. I saw where juice and milk and yummy food was spilt and enjoyed at the kitchen table. I saw the kids faces as they came down the stairs on Christmas morning, . . . my favorite faces. I saw the kids running to meet daddy when they heard the garage door start to open. When I walked outside, I saw all three kids riding their bikes, skateboards and scooters back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, over and over. I cried as I stepped back and took my last real look at the house. I wasn't crying because my perfect life had been completely altered, okay maybe I was a little, but truthfully, my tears were tears of gratitude. So much gratitude. Grateful to have been given the chance to make the memories. Grateful for each day in that house I spent with my kids and my husband. Grateful. Grateful. Grateful. The house, as great as it was, was just a house; but the memories and love that filled it was more than I could have ever hoped for.

"My family is grateful.". . . Charlie is crawling on the ground :)
Max, 5 yrs old

My heart is grateful for the memories and the chance to make new ones.

Stay tuned for more living


Meghann said...

I'm so touched. Thanks for writing.

Ann said...

Now that I've had a really good cry, I want to tell you how perfectly you have portrayed MAX and the Hunsaker home. I'm grateful for the many never to be forgotten memories there. I love you Leanne.

Megs said...

Another beautiful post that I'm sure not only blesses you by writing it, but blesses all of us for reading it.

Rachael said...

You have a way with words. I love reading your posts, they teach me so many things. I am grateful for your willingness to share! Thank you

*megan said...

And I'm grateful I got to be Max's aunt and share some of the memories. And, yes, the Harris family is the best (well, close second to the Ogden family) ;)

The Francis Family said...

I loved Max's answer to the going back in history question. What a sweet boy!..and Charlie crawling in the picture. Treasured memories. I'm grateful to know you and Diane and we think of your family lots.

Nathan said...

I've never known anyone as young as Max with so much concern and love for others. These papers reinforce that. My favorite is the time machine one - always thinking of others. Thanks for sharing and inspiring.

Christina said...

That had to have been so difficult for you. You are lucky to have a wonderful mom to help you through those times--seriously she was eating someone else's popcorn?! that is the best!!!

Sand for the backyard--nice! do you guys like "visitors!" HA