Then There Were Two

Packing up my parents' house is an odd experience. As Brent and I packed up the photo collages from my childhood I couldn't help but look at all of the pictures and get misty eyed. I wouldn't exactly call my childhood perfect, but looking at those pictures it made me so sad to know that my family is now scattered to the wind. Mom and dad in New Mexico, sister in Colorado, Grandmother in California, and me here in the south. My entire family used to live within a 60 mile radius of one another in California. I don't know what the rest of my life holds, but I'm worried that the rest of it won't include the closeness with my family that it has up until this point. It's so hard to part ways.

It's so hard to pack up the house; so hard to look at the spot in the kitchen where Hubby proposed to me; hard to go into the room where my mother helped me put on my wedding dress. Hard to turn the page on a chapter of my life. I'm excited, but scared to live on my own, just Hubby and I. I'm excited to see what kind of family Hubby and I build together, just the two of us here floating along in our life. We've already decided on our own little Christmas, just the two of us.

Just the two of us.