The move.

We helped my parents move out of their house today. Eight years ago this same weekend, Greg and I moved out of our house in the same town. Englewood still feels like home to me so clearing out that house feels like the end of a good book. Whereas there were tearful good-byes on our end, Theresa and her family were celebrating in London, Kentucky as Mom and Dad arrived to start retirement in their new home. We cried in the driveway but they had banners, balloons and a party of family waiting. Mom and Dad now have the support of Theresa's in-laws who've embraced their arrival.

Ty was unsettled and unsure what to make of all this and sought comfort frequently.

He was also overwhelmed by his first exposure to fireworks last night. He claims he liked them but couldn't eat his favorite custard until after the show.

Walking to the fireworks brought back memories and I reconciled it would in fact be our final walk down Union Road. I am at peace but not without some sadness. Englewood is no longer my home.

Good friends came to help load the truck and Kristin referred her neighbor boys for additional support. The house was completely vacant within two and a half hours. It was the smoothest move I have ever witnessed. Most everyone worked hard; however, Kate was there to party.

After our tearful send-off, we headed to Greg's parent's for lunch and a mini birthday celebration for Ty who is turning 5 next week.

 

We arrived home this evening dirty, exhausted and content. Theresa and Jamie are grilling dinner for all his brothers who showed up to make short work of the moving truck. My parents have a new home and a location for us to spend more extended time with my family. Change is hard but I suspect, this change is good.