Moving On

House shopping has always been one of my favorite things to do ...

My first home was the only one in which the choice was a joint effort. Our wedding day was around the corner and we shopped for our first place together.

It was fun and exciting, mixed with the reality of what we could afford. We ended up in a basement apartment which had everything we needed. It was a beginning.

From there, we moved up to the third floor after the birth of Our Oldest. Unfortunately, my next move was back in with my parents.

Ten months later, My Oldest and I were moving into Our Home. A townhouse condominium which had everything my young son and I would need for many years to come. A young community, filled with kids his age, a school, a corner store and a stone's throw from everything that was important to us.

Eight years and two reconciliations with my Ex later, My Two Oldest Children and I moved out and moved on with life. Due to an unfortunate set of circumstances, we had to leave not only our home behind but almost all of our material belongings.

That did not deter me. I didn't want reminders of the past. We moved to a new province and into a completely empty townhouse. We filled it with our little family and the generous donations of many family members. We would make this townhouse a home. A safe haven. That was all that mattered.

We moved one more time before we found the home we were destined to find all along. A house where I can visualize living 'forever' ...

Each of my moves signified an important turning point in my life. Marriage, a growing family, independence, safety, hope and new beginnings. There is not one house along the way that we did not turn into a home. Not by the material belongings, interior decorations or by the extravagance of the house. But by making memories. Some good. Others, not so much.

My Oldest is moving into a new home today. He has been with me every move during every move that I have ever made. He was a silent partner in those moves. There was no choice in the matter for him.

When we abandoned the only home that he ever knew in the middle of the night, he was powerless. When I knew the fight for that house and the material belongings would never be worth the battle, I handed it all over. Not only my 'stuff' but all of My Oldest's belongings were left behind.

We walked away from not only his home and his toys - but his friends, the only school that he had ever known and his grandparents ...

As a young child of nine years old, he was old enough to know that was unfair beyond words. I didn't fight for any of it. He had no control over the situation.

My Oldest's first move from our family home was a traumatic experience. Once again, he was powerless. I thought I was handing the control over to him, but he didn't want to be forced. Not again.

The next decade of My Son's life consisted of moving due to various circumstances. Most of these, once again out of his control. His education consisted of moving back and forth between the city where he attended school and the various locals of his work placements along the way. When he completed school, he was so sick and tired of moving that he purchased a house. It was a rushed and not well thought out decision. It has never been his home.

It seemed to be a pattern. Moving was out of necessity, not choice has been the way of My Son's world. Until today.

Today ... he is moving into a house that he has chosen. The timing was his choice. The location is a place where he can foresee his future. It is not the house that he envisioned. Yet. There is time for that.

This is the move that I hope is the beginning of a new life. A life where he feels happy and in control of his destiny.

A new beginning. He is moving on.