1/3/24:
Last night was our first night in our new house. The entire day was chaotic. We woke up early to make sure everything was set for the movers. Entertaining three small children in an empty house is NOT easy. 0/10. Do not recommend. After seven hours of loading up our lives, driving an hour, and unloading our life into our new home, I was exhausted. All of our visits to the new house leading up to this point have given me nothing but a sense of calm. So naturally I thought when I got here and finally moved in an overwhelming sense of calm would settle over me. After all, this IS my cozy mountain home. Instead the anxiety of bringing my family out to this small farm town in Colorado consumed me. All the usual thoughts.
Will we be okay here?
Will the kids like it here?
Did we make a mistake?
And most importantly…
Will we be happy here?
But the journey that led us here already answered those questions.
Of course we’re supposed to be here.
As I laid in bed wrangling my anxiety so I could get *some* sleep, the old creaky radiators had their own conversations. Clinking & clonking. I felt like they weren’t exactly welcoming us in. Anxiety still heightened, I asked my mom to “give me a sign” which I feel NEVER works for me. Whenever I get super anxious or want to know if I’m making the right decision, I ask my mom for a sign. I’ve done this since she died. For years, I never saw anything. A few years ago, her favorite song started popping on here and there. In the past year, I feel like I have really opened myself up to seeing posisble signs from her. Still always on the fence even believing in signs (probably why I never see them), this afternoon when I took the dog for a walk around our new backyard, out in the fallen pine needles under a gorgeous pine tree, I found a heart shaped rock.
Thanks, Mom.