Moving On

I have lived at my current house, my husband and my starter house, for the last ten years. Wow. They went by in a blink. It's unreal to think our little girl was three when we signed those papers and she turns thirteen Friday. *sniffle*

Last Thursday we signed another set of papers, this on a house we hope to never leave. It's a beautiful gem of a place, an older house on a little more than two acres. The best part? Our rear property line is lakefront.

I've spent this past week painting and wallpapering, and OMG am I exhausted. But I sit on the back porch on my swing...

(Yes, those are cupholders.)

(Funny story. My friend Steve called the hole Mickey Van Gogh.)

...and I soak in the view from our new back porch... 

...and I begin to make peace with this stage in my life.

For those who don't know, I lost my father to brain cancer back in December. My husband and I had already decided we wanted Mom to stay with us, so we also made the decision to upgrade our house and give everyone more room.

It's strange, but I can feel Dad at the new house. I like to think it's his approval. I hope he's resting easier now, knowing that we're taking care of Mom as well as we can, and that she will have the peace and solitude she craves at our new home.