I’m snuggled in my bed in the house I’ve lived in for the past 21 years. It’s the last time I will sleep in this house. Though it’s been in the works for about a year, and we picked up the keys to our new place this week, it didn’t hit me until I was loadng the dishwasher that tonight is it.

I’ve been on the verge of tears all day, but they haven’t fallen. I find that curious as I’m usually one to bawl at the drop of a hat. I’ve had two meltdowns during this process, and maybe that was really all I needed. It feels weird, though, to know that tomorrow I will be in this same bed in a different room with different sounds and different spaces.

Life is always changing – whether we act on it and make the changes ourselves or whether the changes happen to us. I’ve gotten accustomed to that idea over the years. This change is going to be so good for me; I think that’s why the tears haven’t fallen.

There’s a bit of excitement in my belly like I used to get on Christmas Eve when I was little. And I’m sure once we’re moved and settled, I will feel more relief than anything.

I just wanted to write to remember this night. My fiancé, my son, and my dog are all asleep. The sound machine is blasting white noise. I’m typing on my phone and remembering so many of the good times I had in this house. So much living – love, joy, pain, grief – all of it.

Change comes tomorrow.