Now I sit here, 34 years old, having dropped my 5-year-old daughter off at school, watching my 2.5-year-old play Matchbox cars on the floor. I appreciate every sunny day, every rainbow, every giggle from my children. I see their first steps in my living room, and I can’t imagine how difficult it will feel to lose that in just two months. It’s just a simple military house, nothing special, but to me it has been a home, the first real home we ever made. It is decorated, lived in, and full of love. In two months, it will be gutted, cleaned, and ready for another family full of memories.
I’m growing more sentimental every day. The other day, I was sitting in traffic on the North Shore. I looked out my window at the pure and beautiful ocean view and realized I have a handful of these drives left. I’m finding beauty in every moment. What a great thing.
Hawaii is amazing. Lovely, really. It took a really long time for it to feel like home, and for me to figure out that all I needed was my family and I could be perfectly content. But even though it symbolizes this home, these memories, humongous life events, two births, a deployment, first steps, first words, trick-or-treating, love, and family, I won’t lose those things when we board the plane. I think Hawaii will always be something special for me though. Total beauty.
Now when I see a rainbow, I will not only see God’s promise to Noah, and His love for us, I will also be reminded of six years of love and happiness, of newness and fear, and of the birth of my motherhood.
*Like this post? Click the RSS Feed button on the right and subscribe to my blog.*