Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Wow! I can't believe how long it's been since I last posted a blog. I'm not even going to try and recap everything that's happened in the last eight years, but suffice it to say A LOT!

I'll just start from here going forward.

Once again, I'm ending a life chapter and turning the page to a new one. Change is never easy, but always necessary if one is to continue growing and maturing. Sometimes it's easy to embrace change; sometimes I go kicking and screaming...but change always wins in the end.

I'm learning to be okay with that. I've recently had to let go of a lot of things, but mainly the idea of how I thought my life was going to look at this point and the direction I was going. I heard someone ask the question once "what is it that you're trying to hang on to so hard, that your knuckles turn white?"

For me, it was about having a large house and big yard. I just recently sold that house, after some recent health issues caused it to be an unsafe place for me anymore. It was a bi-level house and there's just no way to modify that design to avoid stairs. After a couple scary falls, I was faced with the painful decision process of letting it go. But it wasn't just the house I needed to let go. It was the IDEA of the life I thought I'd have with that house. It was my "somewhere over the rainbow" house.

I envisioned that place being where friends and family gathered and shared meals, children played in and out of the house, and dinner parties were given. Hospitality and a sense of welcome would always reign. Flowers would be planted to adorn the yard at springtime, fruit trees and berry bushes would be planted to provide sweet treats in the summer, multiple piles of leaves would be racked in the fall for children to jump in, and the abundance of snow in the winter would be used for the most awesome snowballs and Frosty Snowmen, complete with a carrot nose and pine tree branch arms.

But...life changed. And I had to change with it.

I have to say that it was the letting go of the idea that was the hardest. Once that decision was made, I was free to develop a plan. Thanks to so many friends and a wonderful realtor who helped make that plan a reality, the house was put on the market on a Friday and was sold by the following Tuesday. I found a wonderful community to live in and kind friends brought meals, got groceries, and donated hours to help sort, pack, and move until everything was done. As hard as it was, it couldn't have been any easier.

A couple years ago, I remember sitting in the driveway of that house in my car, listening to a song that had just been released. It was "Home" by Phillip Phillips. I cried as I listened because I thought that was meant for there. Here are the words:

Hold on to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along

Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble—it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found
Just know you're not alone
'Cause I'm gonna make this place your home

I still love that song...heard it just this morning, as a matter of fact. And it hit me that it was still applicable. This new place could still be a place where hospitality and a sense of welcome could exist. Just the location had changed. 

And I had changed in the process. It's not so much the house that makes people feel welcomed, safe, peaceful, at "home." It's the people who live in the house. I don't need a house "over the rainbow" anymore. All the things I've wanted have been here all along.