Purpose - Direction - Faith

A single thing worth fighting for

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

Moving to Yakima

Now I know some people. These people are pretty sweet, the fact that they are from Yakima has nothing to do with how sweet they are. In fact I really don't have a problem with Yakima. It's this whole moving part that bothers me.

I've talked to alot of people, wise and dumb, I get the general sense that its not a big deal to move. Life moves on, it's like a river flowing downstream....or at least someone told me that.

I disagree, life needs to be a pool, a stagnant pool. One where my family doesn't sell the house I've grown up in all my life. I for one am not looking forward to my last trip to Bellingham, to my home, to my room, to my backyard. I don't want to walk up the steps of my porch one last time. I'm not ready to move on from my home, its just too much to me...

Home isn't just a place for me, its the things that shaped my life, the ones that remind me where I come from.

Home is the rain on the windows, as I fall asleep.
Home is the swing on the porch, the one I sat on when I wanted to get away.
Home is the front yard where I played ninja fighter with nothing but a rope.
Home is the roof, where I first fell in love with the stars.
Home is the pictures, the painting, that have hung in the same place all my life.
Home is the wedge on top of the couch where Chelsea sleeps all through the day.
Home is the sports court, where I never learned to play basketball. I tried tho.
Home is the late night hot tub conversations with God.
Home is the creak of the 2nd, 3rd and 5th step of the stairs as I sneak in for the night.
Home is the lighthouse mural that I left unfinished in my room.
Home is the cowboy doors to the library.
Home is mowing Dot's grass.
Home is the art room, with all the family's contributions.
Home is the Christmas tree in the corner by the window, the only one I've ever known.
Home is the apple trees that we used as soccer goals.
Home is the "house on the right after the pink house"
Home is the kitchen hangout, sitting on the counters.

Home is the place I'll never get to show my wife.

Home is my escape. The 2 AM drive to sleep in my bed, the place I go to just be.

I'm not ready to let home go. I guess I'm just a little sentimental about it....