The house is quiet now. The week's worth of house guests gone.
In the flurry of all the hullabaloo I heard a few whispered snippets of conversations between H and our oldest's Godfather. Too busy to give them much thought I pushed those overheard words into the back of my mind. Way back. They were too much to even consider with a houseful of family and friends. But I heard them all the same.
As a child I dreamed of houses with white picket fences. No doubt my years in foster care & group homes; being moved around with no sense of home, made my dreams of a forever home all the more vivid. Necessary.
Surprisingly in the last 20 years, I've lived the life of a gypsy...not alone of course, but with H and our 2 monkeys.
I don't know what changed my dream of white picket fences, but somehow something changed inside me. We've moved often, never staying one place too long. Perhaps, moving around during those formative years engrained itself in my being. Maybe I am a gypsy after all.
These last 7 years in the Pacific Northwest have been our longest stay anywhere...by a good 3 years.
So when I heard cities and countries being mentioned earlier this week, of course I thought, here we go again.
But that antsy feeling I'd get when we've lived somewhere 2 years didn't happen and still hasn't. I don't feel ready to move yet, I'm really liking it here.
H is trying to dangle a few carrots(countries) in front of me. I see through his ruse. He knows my weaknesses.
Although I know the final decision doesn't lie with me, I know he'd rather me be on board with such a life changing decision.
Ultimately he wants me to be happy too.
I wonder which way the wind is going to blow this summer...and whether we'll be changing direction with it.