Starting Over

September 8, 2012 § 20 Comments

I love words.


I wish I could breathe them in like air. Consume and digest them like food. Wrap them around me like my oldest, softest sweater.

But sometimes

They fail me.

Like for these past few weeks. While being showered in love and affection and food (of course), I have been speechless.

There is a feeling you get when packing up your entire life to move in the opposite direction of your darling mother, most beloved family, and friendships that you’ve only recently recognized the value of . And truthfully? I’ve been feeling a little miffed about it.

Because, it’s not like the movies. Hollywood: you lie.

In case you were wondering, it’s not all sweet freedom and independence and homemade cherry pie.

Its nausea. And fear. And salty-bitter sadness. And more tears than the average set of tear ducts can handle. And resentment at the unlovingness of life. Yes, I know that’s not a real word. Judge me.

And then, suddenly it’s time. Tears.

All too soon, the last of the goodbyes, well wishes, and best of luck’s have been given, and you’re standing in your kitchen for the last time, clinging to your mother for dear life and not caring the tiniest bit that snot and tears are staining her shirt and ruining your face. You’re mind is racing. You’re thinking of all the little, seemingly insignificant things you won’t get to do together anymore. You’re choking on “I love you’s” and “I’ll miss you’s” and all the words left unsaid. More tears.

Then, you’re driving away with one loaded white taurus, a pair of leaking eyes, and a heart that’s filled to over-flowing with love and gratitude. If ever you find yourself questioning or doubting your value and significance in the lives of the people you do life with, try leaving them. You’ll be amazed.

Somewhere in between those 1500 miles,16 hours, and 3 bags of kettle corn, the tears begin to fall with less velocity and consistency, the ache in your chest begins to dull, and you start to breathe again.

Before you know it, you’re pulling in the drive to your new home at 1:30 a.m., too physically and emotionally spent to shed another tear or entertain any other thought besides sweet oblivion. At least for a few hours. Then you wake up. You cry. You call your mother. You cry. You unpack your car. You cry. You start putting your room in order. You cry. You repeat. You cry *less.


And one day

You look around and you see the sun shining for the first time in days. You see your new town and fall in love with its beauty and newness. You spend the day out on the town, and at the end of the day, you pull into the driveway to your new house and feel relief that you are finally home. You smile and it’s not just to be polite. You laugh and it’s not forced. You start dreaming, planning, and writing again. You live.

New beginnings.

Tagged: , , , , , , , ,

§ 20 Responses to Starting Over

  • Lyn Leahz says:

    When something in our life changes, it oftentimes takes away the good ol’ comfort of routine. But it sounds like by the end of it, you were adjusting. I always remember 2 Timothy 1:7, “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.” That little ol’ verse helps me so much because I so often easily fall prey to fear when I don’t know what’s going on, or for any reason! Love ya in Christ! Very good poem, from the heart! God bless you!!!!! ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ (Seven hearts for you, because seven is the number of Jesus; and He does love you sooooo much!) 😉

  • what a wonderful post — it really does tell a story of truth, grief and realization –thank you so much for sharing this

  • whoamiandwhy2012 says:

    So poetic and Beautiful…I LOVE this post. You write so well. Glad you made it safely to Columbus and are getting adjusted. God Bless!

  • My sweet, sweet Abbey… what a beautiful gift you have with words. You make your momma so proud. My tears have not yet stopped… but I trust in the plans He has for you, knowing that are perfect and true! I love you sweet girl and my heart will keep on missing you!

  • You are awesome! You inspire me. Keep laughing.loving.eating writing.

  • Dee says:

    Glad you both made it to Ohio with no problems. Hope you are all settled in your new home and getting use to your new town. Enjoyed your blog. We love you, Papa and Grandma

  • Beautifully written and inspiring. Glad it’s going well now.

  • heysheila says:

    I moved, a few miles further than you, away from my family last year {I’m still adjusting}. I feel at home a little more and more each day, but I still miss the people I left behind.

  • I am so glad you made it safely to your destination. Change is always hard, but from it new and exciting things can happen. Know that God is with always because He said in His word that He would never leave or forsake us. It will get easier as time goes on.

    Blessings to you and your family.

  • Andrea Kelly says:

    What a beautiful piece. I think that’s a feeling so many of us can relate to at some point in their lives, though you wrote about it much more eloquently than we could ever hope to! 🙂
    I’m glad to hear you’re settling in and enjoying the newness.

  • Your are such a beautiful writer. I enjoy your insight and honesty.

  • The misty eyes I read this with is confirmation of how beautifully you’ve expressed your feelings and emotions. Wishing you the very best and as I tell my own children always remember…”Home is always the one place you can go back to and know that you are welcomed and loved.” I am sure your family feels the same about you. Enjoy the adventure! Nancy

  • Randy says:

    The pain will fade and joy will fill your heart at the realization of the work you were CHOSEN to do…….missing my foodie friend.

  • Jaclyn Kader says:

    Beautiful. I’m a Mum who will be going through something like that at some point when my daughter moves out. Scary watching them step out into the void, but exciting seeing them fly. And don’t believe what people say….”You CAN go home”.

  • Lovely story. I especially enjoyed the line “In case you were wondering, it’s not all sweet freedom and independence and homemade cherry pie.” Thanks for writing.

  • salism says:

    Lovely! That’s life

  • esenparaguay says:

    Be strong Abby, the Lord is with you, and there is nothing that He does that is not for our blessing.

  • esenparaguay says:

    When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought me joy (Psalm 94:19)

  • I hope your new move is a great one!

  • The Ink Pot says:

    This is lovely. Lovely. I’ve read maybe two of your posts and I love the way you write. Fantastic stuff. I’ll actually be moving at the end of next year and I’m sure this is exactly what I’m going to go through then.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

What’s this?

You are currently reading Starting Over at laughing.loving.eating.


%d bloggers like this: