In our small 1920’s era Los Angeles rental, the rooms grow bigger every day. Actually the possessions become fewer, which just makes the house look and feel far more spacious. People arrive daily now, answering ads and apps regarding our items for-sale. Completing the transactions quickly is a daily ritual of mine.
While it feels right, preparing to move (& slimming down to the basics) it does feel a bit surreal. Maybe it just goes against my pack-rat tendencies. It stirs up some feelings, and brings heightened emotion to the moment.
I think to myself: This is the only house our children know. I’m suddenly valuing that feeling of “home” more highly. How long will it take, following an international move, for that feeling to return?
The memories of having 2 babies come into the world here, and watching them grow, are precious. It is the end of an era.
With a matter of weeks remaining, some nagging insecurities exist; not knowing the language well enough, not being prepared enough to generate an income there, wondering if i can adjust culturally. But these rather silly thoughts are quickly drowned-out as my thoughts turn to the kids. Will they have any memories of this home? How will such a major move affect their growth?
But we can’t let a few worries control our actions and destiny. Otherwise we’d never get out of bed in the morning.
I’ve had enough of Los Angeles for a while – change is long overdue. Our family will be entering a life of amazingly healthy food, pristine nature and clean water, a support system with loving grandparents and family. The countryside with children – is a dream environment and playground. The opportunity for them to grab a piece of their own culture and soak up the language naturally.
I have no doubts about the decision. To fear the unknown is natural. It is clear that love of family is perhaps the only thing that truly matters. A challenge to a family can bring them closer together, strengthen bonds, and demonstrate that “home” is the comfort that comes from making memories together.