i knew i was going to.
i just didn't know when.
on thursday, when the sorting was mostly done, and two dear friends had helped me set up most of the sale already, and another had brought tables and another had helped me sort and label and throw away and save and package, and Ben had been home for 4 days but we hadn't gotten to spend much time together yet, and then another friend showed up - from 3 hours away! - to help with whatever needed doing, and two other new friends showed up and the sorting friend showed up - to help me label and move glassware and books outside to the sale . . . as all the chaos was going on, i could feel tears welling. grateful tears, overwhelmed tears, this-is-all-moving-so-fast tears . . . but i didn't cry then.
on friday, we sold and bartered and gave away all. day. long. in the beautiful sunshine.
on saturday it poured rain and we rested.
on sunday we moved the chicken-ladies and napoleon (the rooster) to their new home. we delivered one of the beautiful hutches from my living room to its new owner. ben took a trailer-load of outdoor equipment to its new owner.
as i made supper, i kept glancing out the window, like i always do, but there were no chickens to check on . . .
after the four of us ate some supper, we sat in the living room and i started to really think about all the things that we had gotten rid of in the past few days.
my throat got tight.
after we tucked the kids in we headed up to our bed to watch a movie, and at some point a song came on about trading that (normal, regular life) for all of this (mountains and valleys, plains, rivers, adventure), and i looked over at an empty bookshelf and an empty tote and a tote with clothes in it and another random pile or two . . . and the tears started. quietly. just a few squeezing out of the corners. then a few more. then ben asking me if i was alright. i'm fine, i said. he looked at me funny. i think i started to cry, i said. and then the tears really came. the house just looks so weird, i said. i don't care where we live, as long as we are together. but this just looks and feels so weird. and he got it. and i cried. until snot was running along with the tears.
and we talked about how we thought we were going to live here forever. and how much work we put into this place. and how many memories we have here - good and bad, wonderful and hard. and how truly strange it is to get rid of so much stuff, and to sort of start over.
but how good. we have some very, very dear friends, who have been encouraging and helping and standing by. we four are so good together. and we are going forward together. going in a way that we think is best for our relationship, for our kids, for the four of us.
so, i have two weeks to finish packing and cleaning.
and then we'll be in a tiny apartment . . . cozy for the winter.