Monday, March 30, 2015

Leaving Home

As I sit trying to once again collect my thought, listening to Elton John Radio on iHeartRadio, I am reminded of the last time I was packing my house up for a major move. I was in our home on Childress St in Wellington, Tx, crying over some boxes. Bennie & the Jets was playing through our old turntable. 

I did not want to be packing. I resented every box, every run of tape, every whiff of marker as I packed away our life in preparation for a new start. I had just moved here 3 1/2 years earlier when we got married. Packed up my whole life and moved 9 hours & 600 miles from all I ever knew, 3 kids in tow. We had settled in Wellington and it was home. 

 Wes had gotten laid-off from a job he loved, we were broke and there was just no conceivable way to stay any longer if we were to survive as a family. It was heartbreaking at the time and I just didn't see anything worse than leaving his hometown, uprooting our kids from their home, and starting over in a place I knew nothing about. 

 I fought the move, worse than our children did, I won't lie.  He seemed to be the only one confident in what we were doing.  He had lived in this place called Winnsboro for a year or two in the past and had visited many times growing up. His grandparents lived there, his Dad was from there, he was certain it was going to be okay eventually. Me? Not so much. He was right. (yes, I just publicly admitted my husband was right. Mark that on a calendar! lol)

There was a lot of hurt in that tiny Texas town for Hoss and it was time for him to leave it behind. His family was all gone. The grandmother he loved and cared for had passed. He was all that was left. His job was gone (no fault of his employer, the economy was tough. They were and still are good people and we miss them.). The department he grew up in, dedicated 16 years to, didn't even so much as say bye when he resigned his post.  His heart was so broken and he had been so let down by people he thought were different. It seemed no one cared if we left and I guess that added to the hurt. We knew our friends (they know who they still are) didn't want us to go but they understood why it was time.  It just wasn't the Wellington he grew up in anymore. 

So, countless boxes of our things, appliances, bicycles, toys, 5 kids, 2 dogs, a cat, a Suburban and a pickup, we left "home" and moved to Winnsboro, Louisiana. 

When we pulled out of Texas, I couldn't bare to look back. As much as it killed me to see my kids cry as the said good-bye to their friends, I guess a part of me knew that they'd be okay in time. We would settle into a new normal and we had no time for looking back. It served no purpose.  

Funny how we thought we were leaving home. Funny how we had no idea 6 short years later we would be once again taking this journey, only to discover we just thought we were leaving home last time.  This time, oh, this time how it hurts so much more. 

We have found something here that we have never be able to find anywhere else. We have found what was missing.  We have found family. It hurts to leave family.

So many here have been there to lift us up, to help us when we didn't even know we needed help. So many have shown us love in ways they don't even realize. Our children have too many Aunts & Uncles to count these days. I know in my heart who loves us and who means it when they say "if you need anything, just holler". 

Saturday evening, Hoss' brothers called him the station. We arrived to find it packed with people, all there to wish us well as we start this new journey.  In true Franklin Parish style, we ate fried catfish with all the trimmings, Kool-Aid pies, tea & a cake the size of a small car hood!


I know these guys didn't think it was anything monumental, this gathering they pulled off but they are so wrong. They will never, ever, understand what it meant to Wes, to me. We are so very proud to be a part of this community, this parish and this family. I just do not have the words to tell you how loved these people are by us.  I pray they know that even though we are leaving, we will never be far away. 

As we prepare to move to Ball, La and start a new life, a piece of us is staying in Franklin Parish. After all, it's home. I won't say good-bye, I just can't. 



From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Thank you for loving us and showing it. We love you all.


Sandy



  
































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