Monday, April 6, 2015

Time To Go

That moment when you're reminded that your home, but your not home.

This town, this state has been my home for forever now but I no longer feel like I belong here. I may be physically here, but my heart is somewhere else. For many reasons.

Yes my dad's side of the family lives there (my grams, an unce, aunt and some cousins where I want to move). It's a chance to get closer to them and develop the relationship we all lost out on. I understand that my hubby doesn't understand this. I don't expect anyone whose never been through this to understand. I miss them terribly and everyday the hole in my heart gets bigger.

When I went back to visit them last August, I noticed a HUGE difference on my physical health. After all this time trying to figure out why, I found that its because the pressure is less where they live. The elevation is higher and the higher you get the less pressure. Same thing happens with weather. The colder it is, the lower the pressure. Why wouldn't I want to leave a place where I'm in constant physical pain, where I spend much of my time bedridden, and move to a place where I am able to climb mountains?

Lately the reminders have been coming daily. Telling me I need to move. Things aren't that simple thought. I can't just pack up and high tail it out of town. I have others to worry about. Kids and a husband to uproot. Family and friends to say goodbye too. Medical and insurance arrangements to be made for my son. 

And once we leave, there will be no moving back. Visiting yes, but not moving back. 

There's jobs galore there. None here. I can't even work here because of my pain. There I could most likely go back to work since I'll be in less pain. With both of us working we could do really well for our little family. 

Justin and I watched Wild today. He seemed to be reading my mind because he randomly stated that I should probably not be watching it since I already have 
Moving in my sights. It's not just in my sights. Getting another kitten is in my sights. This is in my heart. Ingrained from the moment I stepped off that plane in Denver. The moment I saw my grams hop out of her car, grab me in a quick hug and tossed my suitcase in the trunk. 

That was the moment I realized what home really felt like. When I realized what I was missing. 

I had found that in my husband. Then in my kids. The feeling never was lost. This new feeling was different. It almost completed the missing gaping hole where my Dad should have been. I say almost because I'll never stop missing him. I'll never stop dreaming of how life would have been if he had ended up with me. If he had raised me. If he hadn't died that terrible night by the knife of some jack ass. 

Trying to get my hubby to understand these emotions has been hard. Yes he wants to move. Is seriously considering moving but thanks to his anxiety he just can't seem to take the plunge.   

I wish we were those people who could just pick up and go. But we aren't. It takes more preperation and time. Meanwhile I keep praying. 

**edited

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