living through death

"The only way that you can accept life is if you can accept death.” –Leo Buscaglia

Posts Tagged ‘Moving Away

Moving: A Reflection in the Form of a Note to My Kids

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In 10 days we will be moving away from Rice, MN. We’ve spent 12 years of our lives here. One of the things that I am most deeply grateful for that has emerged from this time is the love that has literally been born into the world between you, Adrian and Brynn. Yes, Adrian, you are prone to being a know-it-all in the presence of your sister. And, yes, Brynn, you are prone to squealing and whining in the presence of Adrian. But from the first smile that crossed Adrian’s face when you were born seven and a half years ago, you two have shared a love that has been our joy to witness. And that’s probably what breaks my heart most about this move…

I remember last year at conferences, Adrian, Mrs. Davis—who tended to be rather serious—got a big smile on her face as she described how much you loved being Brynn’s big brother at school. She told me how, when “leading the line,” if you heard her voice, you would make the whole line slow down in the hall so that you might be able to wave at Brynn as she passed by. Then this year, Brynn, Mrs. Christensen told us how Adrian comes into your room every morning and gives you a hug and a high-five before he goes to his own room. Someday, when you have a little more experience in this world, you will realize just how beautiful these images are. These are the last days, however. In Fergus you will be going to different schools…

Last night I was not feeling well, so I was trying to go to bed early. You two were in your room with the light on just jabbering away. I had to go in and have you shut all the lights off (including your lava lamp) and tell you get to sleep. You were both sitting there in your jammies (Adrian in his dinosaur footies, and Brynn, you in your princess nightgown) coloring a Minecraft coloring sheet. Once I was back in bed, and for the next half hour, you then decided to sing songs to each other (I have no idea about what), so I had to go tell you to stop that as well.

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You both are pretty nervous about the idea of having your own rooms. You’ve slept in the same room together ever since there was such a thing as you “together.” You keep asking if we can just make one room for you in the new house. There is, of course, a part of me that would give anything to build you one room in our new house where you could always live as our children, singing to each other in your jammies, even while we tried to get some sleep. It goes without saying that you will always have a room like that in the hearts of your mother and I, and in the heart of God, I suspect, these days live on as much more than memories. But in this life, things move on. We grow up. We say goodbye. We become ourselves, often in quite lonely and difficult ways.

Leaving is hard. Growing up is hard. But it’s part of life. I’ve gone through it myself… I’m still going through it. So, a bit of advice: Never forget this love you’ve known. Look for it in your new home. Create it with the new people who will enter your life. Reconnect with it in the lives of those of us who have been with you from the beginning, mom and I, your brother, your sister, your grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, your first neighbors and friends.

So there we go. I’m so deeply grateful for the life we’ve had here in Rice. I’m so deeply grateful for the love that you’ve grown to know. May we only grow deeper in that love as we move into this next chapter!

Written by Alex

March 1, 2016 at 12:50 pm

Posted in Life

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