Cry me a river...

     Ok, usually I wouldn't categorize myself as an overly emotional person.  Yes, I happen to cry every time I see that Folgers commercial where the son surprises his parents by coming home for Christmas and wakes them up with the smell of freshly brewed coffee.  I can't help it...it gets me.  And of course, Hallmark Hall of Fame movies make me cry.  I think the writers of those things sit around contemplating how to rip the hearts of viewers to shreds Finally, when I am so completely, utterly, infuriated and have no way to voice my opinions without damaging a relationship or getting fired, I cry (and that pisses me off even more).  Anyway, in my normal day-to-day, I am not a crier.   That was SO not true this past weekend.  Holy moly the floodgates opened.  Brig and I were busy loading the truck Saturday morning and we both ended up in the shed out back.  I looked at her and told her how much I was going to miss her. I shouldn't have done that.  We were both a giant heap of bawling mess.  Then I walked into my empty bedroom and it started all over again. AHHHHH!
     Although I have not enjoyed Hutchinson (for many reasons), it has been home for over 20 years.  Brigid took her first steps in that house.  She learned to walk, talk, and grew into an extraordinary young woman.  Conor went through school in that house.  He played sports, practiced shooting hoops in the driveway, posed for prom and first-day-of-school pics, and came back to live while student teaching in that house.  While some view a  dwelling as a place made up of studs, sheetrock, and flooring, I have always needed and cultivated a nest for me and my family.  So, leaving this particular nest with all its memories finally hit me and took my feet out from under me.
     I am excited about the future and what it holds, but this past weekend was full of memories relived and closing the door to that chapter of our lives.  That stung a tad...more than I thought it would.