Change.
My daughter has re-homed her cat and sold off her best laying hens. My son’s room is packed to his neck in moving boxes. When we have to tell the kids, they’re rightfully confused and it takes a few days for it to settle and make sense to any of us again.
We’re not moving to Idaho.
“We pray for doors to open and for doors to close.” My husband is reiterating some of the words of wisdom he’s been hearing over the past couple days of telling those around us of our un-news. And all the cliche things are said because they’re simply the true things to say. “There’s a reason for this, even if you don’t know what it is in this moment.” And, my personal motto at the moment, “At least you didn’t sell your house!”
My husband lost his job in Idaho before he even started. A company that thought it was expanding rapidly has found itself suddenly in survival mode without the necessity or ability to take on any new hires. Without the assurance or allure of a great job, the cross-country move begins to quickly crumble in our fingers.
So, yes, you heard it right. We’ll be back at school (& I'll be back at Fly).
We’re still going to adventure West this summer, as we have airfare, summer camps booked, and kid's first festival concert tickets purchased, but our plan at the moment is simply to come home afterwards.
And home we are, with fresh eyes for what we’ve had all along.
