Bittersweet

We just pre-signed our closing documents on the house and get the keys for our rental on Friday. I know this is what we wanted, what we planned (kind of), so why did my eyes well with tears as I scribbled by signature?

Maybe because my sweet dog slinked over to the table, rolling over to get his belly rubbed by the agent who brought over the paperwork, and I know in another week in a half I have to let him go live with my daughter? I know he'll be fine, and she will love it, but I will miss him.

Maybe because AJ sent John, Alyssa, and me a text conversation between him and his friends reminiscing about the fun times they all had at the Ferry abode with the opening, "Since it's the last time I will be at the house, my friends and I were remembering all the good times..."? I know he doesn't "live here" anymore, but I know he's feeling nostalgic, losing a piece of his childhood.

Maybe because as I'm packing and purging, I'm looking through old files of school work, pictures, and trophies and plaques from youth sports, spuring memories of when they were chubby-cheeked, carefree kids? Now they are adults, doing adult things, and although I am so proud of them, I sometimes (sometimes) miss those days.

Maybe because the changes are rolling in like waves during a storm, lapping over each other, not giving me a chance to take a breath?  I know I will have my chance to take a deep breath soon, but for now, I am treading water.

Or, maybe because I'm human. I think I'll go with that.

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