I realized something today. I haven't let myself think about the sadness of moving. Even during the process of saying goodbye to everyone, I didn't really let myself feel sad. But, it really hit me this morning as I was standing in the church sanctuary.
I had just said goodbye to Jules and Ava. I handed them over to complete strangers. Boy did I underestimate how hard that was going to be. Julianna clung to me and said she didn't want to stay. I said to the woman, "We've never left her with anyone we didn't know." I came very, very close to bursting into tears. However, I looked at Julianna who had started to cry and decided that wasn't going to help. So, I scooped her up, gave her big hugs and kisses, smiled and said, "See you soon sweetie!" Chad and I walked up to the sanctuary and took our normal seats on the back left side. Except, they weren't our seats. They weren't our seats because I couldn't see Nikki, Jamie, Lainey, Seth and the youth right in front of us, or the Peppers a couple rows behind, or Ron and Cindy up front and center. I looked around and I didn't know anyone. And no one knew me. No one knew my kids or our family or stories about Chad growing up. Brother Jess wasn't coming over to talk Chad's ear off and neither was Mark. There wasn't a potluck dinner that I'd forgotten to cook something for (again) kicking-off after church. I couldn't turn around and see Janice Robinson looking like...well, like Janice Robinson. : )
The band warmed up and we started to sing "How Great is Our God...Sing with Me...How great is Our God..." I thought about how Nikki always lifts her hands when she sings that song...and I thought about how beautifully Kimberlee and Antaun harmonize together. Seth being the first one down to the nursery to pick up the girls. Jamie joking with the youth and swinging Julianna around. How Cindy would always ask us over for Sunday dinner (and I always secretly hoped it was roast beef with carrots and onions). Ron's home town metaphors and nicknames for the girls. And, well...I just suddenly missed everything. A lot. I looked up and tried to balance the tears that were forming in the wells of my eyes with every hope of keeping them from falling down my cheeks. I fanned myself. I fanned faster. Finally, out of desperation, I repeated those famous lines to myself over and over and over..." Birdcages, birdcages, birdcages...." (I once told Kimberlee to do this to keep her from crying at a wedding) The funny thing was...it worked. : )
I made it through the service. So did the girls. Julianna actually went running back into the toddler room for more fun while we were trying to negotiate an Ava hand-off after the service.
So it goes. So is life. I'm glad I was able to relax a bit to feel it and relax a little more to write it. It will get easier. And soon we'll know this congregation of believers, too. They won't take anyones' place. But they will be our church family. And soon we'll know who to call for a cobbler recipe, who to have play-dates with, and who will stop to chat awhile long after the sermon is over.
