Ending.
I had to move. The decision was not my first choice but I cannot say that I was a victim of the decision either. It was one made out of compromise, in the hopes of a means to end a chapter. At first I was devastated. How could I uproot myself and my children again? All the time and energy I poured into creating my home-only to be dismantled. I was crushed. Acceptance was the second stage that followed shortly after. Simple acceptance...the act of not resisting and just letting go. I sat in this stage for a long time, allowing my mixed emotions to wax and wane freely but without giving any merit to them. Mostly, I worried about the children and about where we would go next. With time though, I did come to not just accept but to embrace the situation. I reminded myself that I had been in this exact place before, when I had to move out of the home that I birthed my three children in. I remember being terrified and grief struck at the loss of what I had spent 11 years perfecting. But to my own shock and surprise, once I left our family home, I never looked back. It was empowering and freeing to experience the understanding of dis-attachment. Instead of a punishment, it was really an opportunity. It was a chance to create a new sanctuary that was appropriate for me at that time.
What a journey it has been. I will forever miss my little beach cottage. Its musty closets and cold floors. The bright light and most amazing front porch. The neighborhood and our great friends. The house has served us well. Below are a few of my favorite parts.
So here I am again, saying goodbye to yet another home. The home that washed away the daily tears of my broken heart. A home that my daughter learned to walk and talk in. A home that inspired me to rise up after the tragic death of my baby brother. A home that listened to the laughter of endless children racing through its walls. A home that endured the rage of my suffering teenager. A home where I learned how to fall in love again. A home, that for five years, has provided so much healing and brought so much joy, not just to me, but a to a multitude of women who sought refuge there. For all these things, I am so grateful for.
But now it is time to move on. Time to create a new home. New memories. New dreams. I've done it before...I will do it again. Because ultimately, home is where the heart is. And I've got a lot I want to give.
I feel like we all moved out. Sniff, sniff… The enchantment of that house always lied with you anyway and will be carried with you to seed your next sacred haven. To new beginnings! Again… R.I.P. Neptune House
Beautifully written Kari. You are gifted with bringing words to life. I was taken back to similar journeys while reading. Many blessings on your new place.
I have watched how hard you’ve worked this last week, Kari, getting your “new” home ready. You have already given it so much love and attention. Your cozy Neptune home is full of nice family memories with my grandchildren and you. And I will always remember all the love at Jay’s memorial that helped us get through that day. Looking forward to sharing memories with you and the kids at your new home!
Love,
Mom
Lovely Kari. You go with grace and bring it with you wherever you reside.
Amazing discovery. Thank you for sharing and reminding us the change should not mean fear but rather adventure!
I will miss that beautiful, comfy home. But I know I will feel the same in any home of yours, because it wasn’t the home that I love…its YOU 🙂
As one of the women who sought refuge there I thank you. I will also miss that sweet, nurturing space. I know that any space you inhabit will be bright, full of color and inspiration… a true home filled with the love of family and good friends.
Beautiful Kari!
I can’t wait to raise a toast in your new place. Xxxo
Exactly, Cheers to that!!!
Is that chicken for real?
That was a heart-achingly gorgeous reading experience. Thank you.