Diary of an Unwilling Air Force Wife: That last box...

via fashion gone rogue

Today I will move that last box out of my house and into storage to await my next home.

 I am excited, because the packing and moving and cleaning have been so much work, and it will feel really good to close the door forever and never have to worry about that place again. But it also feels a little bit sad.

It was not the first place that Phillip and I lived after we got married, but we did live there the longest. We potty trained our puppy there and tried our hands at our first home improvement projects together. We knew our neighbors and spent hours walking through that neighborhood together. 

We were accustomed to that house's quirks, like the ease with which one can lock themselves out, the doors that didn't shut quite right, the funky flushing toilet. We were also accustomed to its better qualities, like the huge lavender bushes that flower in spring, and the beautiful wood floors and fabulous washer and dryer. 

We were happy there, although we didn't always know it. 

The emptiness of that house has caused this thought to finally sink in: 

I am moving.

This Air Force thing, that I thought had happened way back in August of last year, is finally really happening to me. Its finally affecting me in an even more profound way, and the changes to my life are actually just beginning. So as I drive around during these last few days, I will truly be taking leave of my home. I'll be back, but it won't be home any more. (Actually, I have a whole post coming on "home".) 

A small part of me is afraid to move that last box. Because once I do, the rest of my life will have really, finally begun.