Leaving the Love Notes - Taking the Love

So, it looks like we have a renter for our house.  It's an adorable young family with two preschool aged girls who are currently living in an apartment complex about a mile from our home.  Last Thursday the wife came with our property manager to "prescreen" the house, and she immediately loved it and handed in her check to hold their "spot."  The only catch is that they want to move in at the end of May, and we were hoping to move at the beginning of April.  But we thought a lot about it, and decided that it would be a whole lot less stressful for all three of us if we just took the next two months to slowly pack and adjust to the upcoming changes.  Right now we are just waiting for their application to go through (credit/referral/
background checks), and if it does, we should have a signed lease in the next couple of days.  Having a signed lease is a huge weight off of my shoulders even though I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea of leaving our house.  


In the eight years that we have been married Jude and I have lived in six different houses/cottages/apartments, two different countries, and three different states, and I have never had as hard of a time leaving a home as I am having leaving this one.  It's hard to put my finger on any one reason why, and that's probably because it boils down to a million little reasons, and not just one reason in particular.  We built this house from the ground up.  We watched from the moment they cleared the first trees, to the installation of the very last doorknob.  Together we picked out our flooring, cabinets, counters, light fixtures, and we labored for days over paint swatches.  We wrote blessings and love notes to each other on the wooden frame holding the house together.  It was here was had our moments of deepest sorrow and greatest joy with the death of the vision for our family, and the rebirth of that vision with my pregnancy.   I spent hours planning Solomon's nursery, and Judah spent hours with a paintbrush- bringing my vision to life.  Just last week we saw Solomon take his first steps in that nursery, and I promise that when I sit in that room (in the rocking chair that Judah reupholstered for my birthday), I can just feel love oozing out of every corner.  We became a family in this home.


Our house is more than just a building - it's a container of memories.  I could write a book about all the memories I have from the short 2.5 years we have lived here, and it is difficult for me to leave that season behind.  When I look at the kitchen I see Judah, standing in the middle, pots simmering, towel over shoulder.  Judah's love for cooking began a long time ago, but his career as a chef began here.  The smudges on back door window remind me of a peek-a-boo game between Jude and Sol, complete with silly faces and sticky fingers pressed up against the glass.  Every time I shower I remember the hours I spent in the bathtub breathing through early labor, dreaming about my baby between contractions, and trying to wait until the last second before going to the hospital.  Each room holds a dozen memories.  Memories with too many details to remember, but that are much too precious to forget.


So, when I look around, and I start to feel sad about leaving the only house I have ever really felt connected to, I tell myself that it's just a building. It's just a building.  And I remember those love notes, written on the beams inside our walls, and I laugh at the irony.  The beams may be holding this building together, but in the end, it was our love that made the memories that made it feel like a home.  Lucky for us, that part will come with us wherever we go.

Coastie Update #2- The Mountain

Last week Judah went to MEPS and took the physical tests required to join the military.  He passed without any problem, so we officially put or house up for lease.  Now it's just a waiting game to find a good tenant, but once we get a signed lease, Judah's papers can officially be sent in to get a boot camp ship date.  Yesterday his recruiter "unofficially" told him that it was looking like they would be able to get a spot opened up for him this fiscal year (horray!), and he is probably looking at a early July ship date.  We're pretty excited about this because it means we should be moved and settled into our new location before Christmas!

While Jude was at MEPS, he met with a recruiter who tried to convince him not to go into Food Service.  He asked him why he would want to pursue that job when he could qualify for any job he wanted.  He followed that up with a thorough breakdown of the job, and explained why enlistees who work in FS often work more hours than anyone else.  He told him about the responsibility involved and about how it is often a thankless job.  As I listened to Judah tell me about their conversation I found myself thinking, "Wow- I wonder if this guy made Judah change his mind working in FS or about joining the CG altogether?"  I was very wrong.  Judah thanked the recruiter for explaining the "not so glorious" aspects of working in Food Service, and for telling him the truth about what he could expect working in this rate (job).  He told him that although he realized that he was qualified for any job, his reasons for choosing to work in Food Service were solid.  He said that he wasn't joining because it was an easy and quick way to advance, or because there was a guaranteed A-school, or because there was an enlistment bonus for recruits willing to work in Food Service.  Jude just gave it to him straight, "Right now, I don't want to do anything else.  I want to cook- it's what I love to do.  It's what I'm passionate about."  As Jude finished recounting their dialogue to me, I finally knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that we were doing the right thing.  Whatever apprehension Judah felt when he left for MEPS was erased by this man's challenge - which should have done the opposite to Judah's resolve.  When you face a mountain, and you know it's going to be hard, but you still want to climb just for the joy of climbing, that's when you know that you are headed in the right direction.

I'm so proud of Judah.  Watching him work in the kitchen I know for a fact that he was born to do this.  Jude is the kind of guy who is good at everything.   He can build a house, fix a car, write, sing and play a song, sell a ten thousand dollar door, draw a picture, scale the side of a mountain, give a speech about political issues and do mathematical equations in his head all at the same time (figuratively speaking anyway.)  He's good at a lot- and because he's such a laid back guy, he could easily be content and successful working in any number of jobs.  But when I see him standing in the kitchen, towel over his shoulder, knife in hand, I just see something different.  He doesn't just enjoy it- it makes him come alive.  It brings out the best in him.  It's the thing that he doesn't mind climbing the mountain for.

Sometimes people live their entire lives without finding their "one thing," or without pushing themselves to pursue that "thing" that they would joyfully tackle a mountain for.  I am aware what a gift it is to know that my spouse has found his "one thing," and to be able to watch him pursue his passion.  I'm proud of my husband for not being afraid to chase after the thing that makes him feel most alive.  I'm proud that he doesn't care about what other people will think, or about the fact that he'll have to start at the bottom and work his way up.  I'm proud to have a husband who is confident enough in himself and in his dreams to find the beauty in a job that no one else wants. I'm proud that he doesn't look at the mountain and say it will be too hard.

Jude didn't need to earn my support, but all of the above are reasons why it is so easy for me to give it away.  Watching him come alive, makes me come alive, too.  I know that wherever we go, wherever we end up, be it close to family or far away- it will be okay, because we'll be climbing that mountain together.  Steadfast.  Happy.  Alive.