They are only moving a few blocks away from their old house, so it's not that she's going too far away or anything- it's just all the memories that I have there. It was my home away from home for so long. When I graduated college and moved back in with my parents I would spend many nights there as an "escape" from feeling like I was still in high school. After I moved into my apartment during law school, I would go there to "escape" from the tedious life of a 1L. When I had to move back home because of my very unplanned pregnancy with Spencer, I spent many nights crying on her sofa snuggled up with her dogs. It was actually in her upstairs bathroom that she informed me my pregnancy test was indeed positive. After Spencer was born, her house was my place of refuge, I could go there and just be Katie instead of Katie, unwed single mother.
Good things always happened to me there. I'm not a lucky person, I never have been. I don't win contests, my slot machines never pour out the big bucks, and if a bird is flying above me and 100 other people- he'll poop on my head. But something about her house was lucky for me. I'm sure if I lived there I might feel differently, glad to get into a bigger house that has a kitchen large enough for a table and a hot water heater that doesn't go cold after 5 minutes. But that house has been the one constant thing in my life since graduating. When everything was in question and my world was spinning, I could always go there and feel at ease, just comforted by being there.
Next week when her new little boy enters this world, the final move will take place while she's still in the hospital. Most of their things are already there, but the "life blood" of their home is still at their old house. The new home is wonderful, beautiful, and spacious while the old one is small(er), crowded, and aging. But it was their starting off place, where they got engaged and where they started their real life together. It was where I started my real life, too. I'm excited to go to the new abode for our first Wednesday with three children instead of two, but I do feel like a huge chapter in our lives is closing. It's a grown up house and I still have a hard time seeing us as real adults. I often feel like I'm just playing a part in a play and any day now the curtain will close and I'll be an immature teenager again. Is that crazy? Am I the only one who feels that way?
I'm sure it's painfully obvious to anyone reading this that I have a difficult time accepting change. It's why I've let bad, bad relationships go on too, too long, why I have nightmares when even entertaining the thought of a new hair style, why I resisted getting a DVD player for years after they became standard fare (I had over 200 VHS tapes! I didn't want to start an entire new collection), why I keep my size 4 pants in the bottom of my drawer (because of course I'm going to fit into them one day), and why I insist on blowing out the number of candles of the age I'm turning on my birthday (I can still blow them all out, even with 27!). And as I get older I'm realizing that things are changing more often and much more quickly than I'm wanting it. I guess that's just a part of growing up and being a real adult.
But I'm a fake grown up, remember?
