There were days when I thought this would never happen.
Days spent treading water.
Days of feeling pangs of envy and longing when the world around me moved forward, and we stayed right where we were... where we had been for so long.
Even as I walked through our empty house, it seemed like it was all too good to be true. Like someone could still yank it all away and taunt, "Awww, so close, yet so far away!"
But it happened.
It happened, and though it's something I've wanted for so long, it felt bittersweet. The way one might feel after finally- finally- climbing a harrowing, daunting mountain. Sore. Tired. Achy. Victorious. Weary of turning and starting toward Home.
I just needed one last walk through the place that housed our family, started our family, grew our family, before heading down the other side of that mountain. One last look at the spaces that are now just our jumping-off point.
One last look...
We haven't made it all the way through the hard stuff yet... heck, we're only starting our way back down that same harrowing mountain, but being in our new place (despite all the cleaning left to do and, well, you know, the fact that there's no carpet yet) just solidifies what we knew all along- it was all worth it.