When we moved into a house we loved middle of town three weeks before our second child was born, I thought we’d live there forever. We lived next door to Greg’s grandma, across the street from the park, and just around a couple corners from my best friend. We could walk to our favorite parade-watching spot and get most anywhere we ever go in 10 minutes.

Inside, the laundry room was right off the kitchen, there are four bedrooms which fit our family perfectly, and there’s extra space in the play room/office on the second floor and the basement living room to spread out. Ben mastered the steps before he could walk – and Rachel was starting to do the same.

Greg – my husband of 14 years – has long dreamed of living on more land, like he did when he was a teenager. We have a lake house and my mother-in-law lives on hundreds of acres, so as we spent time at those places throughout the years, Greg’s dream started becoming my dream. While we loved our home in town, adventure was starting to feel restricted.

In recent years, moving to a wide-open space to call home been one of those one-day dreams for when circumstances seemed right, the land was located in the right place, and the house suited our needs and wants.

Well, one day happened. 

In June, we moved 8.3 miles away onto 33 acres. Around here, we call that moving to the country. Now I run errands in town.

Our house is all on one level, which I love. The kitchen is many times bigger and brighter and the open layout of the living, dining room fits our lifestyle, and the laundry room is bigger but still close to the kitchen. There are windows with views, wide open spaces to roam, and woods and creeks to explore.

Months before we moved in, I stood on the front porch looking out to where my boy could run free, where my husband could let his dreams take root, and where we could all five adventure together, I knew the dream had changed.

I say that because I’ve been hesitant to believe that.

I also say that because I had to remind myself of that when packing up our entire house was more emotional than I ever expected. I’m a doer – taking care of tasks makes me happy. So I imagined I’d organize and purge our stuff and then set up our new home.

That’s what we did, but it wasn’t so cut and dry. Even with the excitement of our new place, leaving the old one was hard.

That house was our home for half our marriage. We brought two kids home there. We celebrated and grieved there. So many kids had been there to play as my friends and I navigated motherhood. Honestly, collectively, my favorite years were spent there.

I know we will make many new memories and always have the memories from the old house, but, goodness, I wasn’t prepared for the emotions that come when dreams change.

Sometimes they change so we can meet a new friend or find a new passion. Sometimes they change for reasons we never know.

But change isn’t always bad.

Again, I say that because I’ve been hesitant to believe that.

We’ve had friends over and have settled into this place that feels like home. After a couple weeks of moving in, a torrential downpour and storm washed out part of our road. Thankfully, there’s another way out. But sometimes even the best dreams have hiccups.

I have no doubt much adventure awaits because that’s the beauty of accepting dreams can change.

 

Shared by: Kristin Hill Taylor