February 09, 2012


Sometimes the answer comes to you. In all of your brokenness, you must surrender. Take the path of least resistance. I've made the tough decision to move out of my apartment — not something I look forward to, but I need the comfort of family and familiarity right now so that I can heal from the sadness that seems to linger in my heart. Before the butterfly can emerge, first she must spend some time in the cocoon. I've had so much loss this year, my heart still aches and my body is so very weak. I just want to go...home.  I'm going to move back into the old house...fix it up. I've already scheduled a complete kitchen overhaul with new cabinets and a dishwasher and picked out a new sink for the bathroom. The kids will have their old rooms, and I will have mine. Dad will have company and care for his own waning health. With any luck, I will have Little M in a new school, and will not have to see The Nurse around every aching corner.

If I weren't so utterly broken, I might care that some may judge me for being on the verge of 40 and moving back in with my parent, but neither the present economy nor my broken heart affords me such a luxury. Besides, most of the world lives in extended family situation, so I consider this a very cosmopolitan move. Working on this house is what I need...for my soul right now. Because maybe if I return to the root of things, I can learn to let go.

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