We have about four months left until we leave England. Depending on the day — really depending on the hour or the minute — I am in turns devastated or elated about this.
We love it here. We love our house and our neighborhood and our friends. We love the kids’ sports and the closeness of London and the ease with which we can travel all over Europe. We especially love the school. Oh man, do we love the school. We don’t want to leave this school AT ALL.
I am so sad when I think about it.
But we’re going HOME! Where we have tons of friends to see and family so close by and my youngest sister is having another baby and she’s due right after we get back. And we’ll be in my favorite place on earth (New England), close to my favorite city on earth (Boston). And there are beaches only 15 minutes away all summer and skiing only 2.5 hours away all winter.
I am so excited when I think about it.
And therein lies the trouble: I can’t reconcile the two wildly different emotions that pop up every time I think about moving.
So I’ve stopped trying. I have to be simultaneously broken hearted that we are leaving and overjoyed that we’re going home. That’s just the way it is.
I will be a soggy mess of tears and hugs and regret for probably the last month we’re here. Certainly the last week of school is going to be a bit of a mess. I will cry every day. The children will be embarrassed. I already know it. I will be devastated saying goodbye to our friends here and this lovely old farmhouse and the fairy tale garden. I will not want to leave.
And then I will get off the plane in Boston and be so filled with happiness that I am really, truly moving home that it will feel like my chest will pop open.
I know, though, that I will always be homesick for this place and the amazing adventures and opportunities we had here.
The more places you live, the more little pieces of yourself you have to leave behind, and the more you carry a constant sense of missing somewhere even though you may love the place you are now. I’ll always miss our neighborhood in Virginia, and I will always miss this home in England, no matter how thrilled I am to be finally going “home” (the place I missed for the last 15 years, every day since I left).
The task then is to remember and appreciate without sadness or remorse and to just be glad for what you had and what it taught you.
Still working on that.