Moving Out + Moving In
From the outside I don’t think the scale of this transition looks as traumatic as it felt from the inside. I wish we had a name for our first home so that I could refer to her here by something more personal. She wasn’t the first place Scott and I have lived in, she was our fifth, but we lived in her the longest (seven years). She wasn't spacious or functional, but we found a way to make her work for us. She was creaky, leaky, drafty, and banged up. But goodness did her backyard shine. A full yard of grass and patio with space between us and neighbors and the ability to see the sky and feel lots of sunshine on our skin from home. She had big windows, the kindest landlord, neighbors that felt like family, and her walls witnessed some of the hardest times, and some of the most joyous times, we’ve ever been through.
Quite possibly the most important memory she holds is the birth of our baby girl in her living room. Riley’s first cries, our moments of terror as parents when something went wrong, and Riley’s first laugh/words/steps. I can still see her rolling under our old couch in the living room, leaving me to search for her not knowing where she had went. Her little naked bum cheeks running out the back door to jump into her blow up pool in the grass. All three of us crammed into the tiny kitchen in two chairs and a high chair every evening for dinner, holding our bowls in our hands. Her tiny sink bath we would fit her into all the way until two years old.
We knew this home wasn’t forever. We didn’t want it to be. We had actually been looking for a new home for years without any success. Everything was too small and too pricey. We needed a second bedroom to move Riley into so we could all try to get some better sleep. We desired more space, land, nature, animals, a big garden, etc. But couldn't put our finger on where to go, every visit to a new city we came back more confused then when we left. So we stayed for as long as we could. Until we were given a three month notice to leave — our landlord needed our home for his growing family, a good reason! So now we had to pack up and didn’t know where to go.
This was the painful part. Leaving would have always been painful, but to have to leave not on your own timeline felt much worse. And to not have another home lined up that you were excited to go to made it harder too. We looked locally, nothing stood out. We looked around the country, no cities or states called to us. So we decided, after the most anxious three months of our lives, to pack our home up and place our things in a POD. We were to fly to Idaho for a month, to Boise, then to some mountain towns. Somewhere familiar that we had just recently been to where we knew we felt comfortable, safe, and at peace. Hoping that by the end of our time there we would have clarity on what was next.
The day we packed up the POD was excruciatingly painful. I’m crying having to remember those details right now for the first time since we left. Riley seemed confused the week prior with all the packing. It was even more confusing that day. To have your home be your home one day and not the next is disorienting and it happens too quickly to process. We woke in our home on POD packing day and left at 4:30pm on a flight to Boise the same day. We were numb. So much chaos ensued that day that I will spare my future self from having to read in details here. But as we were flying to Boise that afternoon, in shock, unable to digest food or properly swallow water, it was done.
Those of you following on social may already know, but we spend 3 weeks in Idaho, and then returned here to our old neighborhood. In a different rental we had signed a lease for while in Idaho. We missed having a home base so dearly, and felt very disoriented trying to make sense of this transition to a toddler, who was just trying to understand if she moved to Idaho or if she was going back to California ever again. It was traumatizing to us all. But after a few weeks, and thankfully a good dose of nature, we were doing better. The grieving process seemed to be moving along. But then we came back to California.
Landing in the airport was a deep relief, knowing we would have a home soon. But driving down a familiar road and passing our old turn for our previous home stirred it all back up. The first few weeks here in our new home were dark feeling. There was lots of painful adjusting and grieving happening once again. I haven’t been able to return to our old street or see our old home, even though I’ve almost driven back to it by accident with Riley several times. She has tried to correct me when driving to our new home, saying, “no mama, turn down THAT street, it is the way home” when she recognizes a turn to her first home. She would say she misses her “old California home” many times the first few weeks — and still on occasion now too. Usually recalling “the one with all the grass”. It made me weep.
Our new home is much nicer inside than our old one. More updated and more spacious. It is beautiful in many ways. But the backyard is a patio, no grass. It is very expensive. Our immediate neighbors we share property with, not as friendly as before. The streets are much busier and our new local park, a little hectic. Looking out into the world and seeing what others have to live in in many areas, I know we hare heavily blessed. This reality does not escape me. But the pain of missing home and desiring something different doesn’t escape me either.
This is a season. Nothing is permanent, and we are really growing to enjoy our life in our new home. I will already miss it, not for what the home is, but for the memories I am making inside of it with my family. We are still looking outwards to what is next for us, where we can afford and really desire to raise our family and do life everyday. This is an interim, which is a tough place to be, but we are also rooting down here to give ourselves and Riley as rich of an experience in life as we can while here. And to not miss the calling to love and bless others around you, wherever you are planted. I don’t believe in coincidence or happenstance. Everything is designed and for a good reason. I’m trying to lean into the goodness and grateful beyond belief to have a home, what a wild year it has been.
x Jessie
leaving our old home
beginning life in our new home
