Member-only story
The Treasures of a Full Life
21 Years of a Real, Hard, but Good Life in Boxes and Bins
These past months have been so difficult for me and my children. We are moving out of their childhood home, the only home I have ever owned and lived in as an adult woman. We settled here, in the Midwest, because we were broke and my father could employ my now-ex-husband at his company.
We never intended on staying here, but my ex never seemed to have a grip on making a living for a family. I understand why that was now, but for the past 20-some years, it was Just. Plain. Hard.
I am more than grateful that we ended up settling down by my parents, though. Since that time, my little sister and her family came home with their horde of kiddos. My brother came home with his family as well. My children had the best of all worlds with cousins and aunts and uncles, grandparents, and a village of people who loved them. I know I was blessed to have their support all of those years.
However, now…I still have their support. But life is changing. As I visit my house every day to care for the new baby chicks, the dog and the cat, and pack up a few boxes, I see hints of a life I have almost forgotten about. I see things I saw every day but had forgotten the meaning behind them.
