There is happiness here

Yesterday was my last long run, the last one before the really long one. I've been warned about running out here in the country. Apparently there are dogs, loose dogs, that chase after people. I know this to be true of the two dogs up the street that live at the house that I drive past every day to get "into town" (that's what the country folk call going to Bloomington). We watch for those two dogs as we drive by. If they're out and about, they chase the car or run alongside, trying their best to keep up with it for as long as they can. It's an impressive show of speed and stamina really. They keep up for a bit and our car is usually going 50+ mph. I did a short run here last week, but went two miles in the only direction I was told was without dogs and turned around to run the two miles back. Not wanting to risk being chased, raced or bitten by a dog, I opted to drive to Bloomington for my last long run (only after considering carrying a can of Lysol to spray at chasing dogs).

Henry fast asleep on the couch on moving day after everyone left to go home. And William curled up next to him. These two have been so brave and they've done so well. They're sharing a room now and doing great.

The beginning of my run involved parking at the edge of my former neighborhood and running down Oakland Avenue, past Leland Street. As I approached the street I contemplated for those moments glancing over or not. Should I look or not? Yes or no? Then the moment was upon me and almost out of habit I glanced over and saw it. The house we sold. Our home. I half expected to see the boys in the driveway or Patrick mowing the lawn. I'd run that way so many times in the months before. I'd even run past sometimes and loop around the block and some of those times the boys would be in the front yard with Patrick, and we'd wave and I'd keep running. But not yesterday. I saw her car there. Parked in front of our house. Her house. It was too soon to look; I knew I shouldn't have glanced. As my feet continued to move forward a few tears fell as my feet struck the pavement. That was the very beginning of the run. I contemplated the move and the change and a new beginning, all in the context of God's grace, for the remainder of the miles. Just as I leaned on God in a physical way to help me through that run, I realized then that I must lean on Him in a spiritual way to help me through this move and this change.

Henry on an early morning tractor ride in his pj's.

I still miss our Leland home and our neighbors, my peonies, the porch swing, the garbage truck and organized recycling system. It has only been a week here. There are still boxes everywhere. Piles and boxes and laundry. It's not very organized and even smells funny at times. I know we'll dig out from under all of the moving chaos; everyone who moves always does. In the meantime, there is happiness here. There will be new memories made and things I grow to love about this home. Last Sunday was the first night we spent as a family here. I was feeling tired and crabby after a few long weeks and a long day of moving. Patrick called to me from outside. It was dark out there and cold and I didn't want to go out. But I did, because he called again. I got outside and he said, "look up". There was a sky full of stars. They twinkled and sparkled and shined in ways I had forgotten stars could. They rolled on and on and almost folded around in a big sky blanket covering over the dark night. I wanted to stay crabby (because that is just the awful mood I was in) but I couldn't. It was something of beauty and I felt happiness.

A Robin's nest, with the most beautiful blue eggs, we discovered on David's barn. The boys check it every day for babies. 

William driving Henry's gator to his grandma and grandpa's house.

From the front porch. 

Planting potatoes in our garden. 

William watching Henry drive the tractor with his grandpa.

William's pine cone collection.

This morning we looked out the front window and saw this. Grandpa Tractor came and took the boys on an early morning tractor ride to park his tractor in the shed that's down the street. They grabbed shoes and sweatshirts and off they scrambled just after 7:00 in their pj's. 

I found William touching the washer this morning. It's spin cycle is ridiculous. It's loud and super shaky. He was holding on and cracking up. 

 

William sweeping up flies. Or any black speck really will do. He calls them all flies and loves to help sweep them up. 

It's different here. Our house is different. But it's going to be ok.