the beginning of the end.

it's getting real.

but not quite. there are moments when it starts to hit me but it's not quite fully registering.

and i'm solidly in the moving-is-annoying-and-sucks-and-i-hate-doing-this-solo-i-never-want-to-do-a-non-military-move-ever-again-in-my-life place.

i officially have no more furniture left in the NJ apt.  10 Indian men just came and picked up my bedroom set and living room furniture.  (it was quite an amusing cultural scene to behold. . . I felt a bit like I belonged in a Bollywood movie. . .)

last night I started my goodbyes.

I am so very very very ready to be home.

My husband and I have lived in parallel universes for 15 months.  We're feeling it.  The last two months while Philip has been in TX have been an emotional whirlwind as we've been trying to make some big life decisions while trying to find moments to connect amidst wild, non-compatible schedules.

We're almost there.  But we're frayed.  10 days. 10 more days.

But goodbyes, regardless of what is waiting for you on the first pages of a new chapter, wouldn't make the lyrics of my song if I was composing a new rendition of "My Favorite Things."  No, I'll stick with door bells & sleigh bells, and me girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes  snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes thankyouverymuch.

Last night they started.

My Facebook reflections were this:

Tonight marks the beginning of many farewells as my time in Princeton begins to come to a close.  Due to the transient nature of military life, I have become well acquainted with the painstaking process of saying goodbye to people who, in a short period of time, I have come to care for and admire a great deal.  Last August I arrive in Princeton, and I didn't know a single soul.  It was, in some moments, a  *bit* petrifying.  Thankful for my mad military wife skills, I dove in head first to mission "create your own support network" and didn't (couldn't?) waste time on the sidelines waiting for relationships to magically materialize out of thin air.

To my small group at Princeton Alliance--thank you for laughing with me, crying with me, praying with/for me, lending me your vacuum cleaner/air mattress/*insert random household good/appliance/ingredient here*, making sure I wasn't alone on Christmas Eve, and aiding me during the instances in which my car when on strike during the last 12 months.  You've been instrumental in creating a space in which I felt an increased sense of emotional cohesion and provided real, practical call-at-any-time supper the last year (the kind that is truly the worst/hardest to ask for).  You've exemplified the grace, compassion, and extravagant generosity that our world desperately needs and Philip and I aspire to replicate.  

The last 12 months I've been on the receiving end of people truly being The Church.  It's been a beautiful thing to behold.  After arriving I quickly settled into what is a pretty big church.  Which was an okay thing.  Given that many many Sunday mornings I was so emotionally raw that I couldn't make it through a worship service without being in tears, I needed the space that being somewhat anonymous in a large congregation affords.  But I needed the family.  And the community.  And I found it.  This year I was blessed with an incredible group of people who helped me feel less alone and less flooded in the moments of overwhelmingness and chaos that have arisen over the course of the last twelve months.  People going through real.hard.stuff.  And none of us had to be alone with it.  This is the way it's supposed to work. . .

In some ways part of me has been ready for this chapter to wrap up before it even started it started.  And I hate that because it goes against my desire to live aligned with the "wherever you are be fully there" concept.  But that's just where I've been at for the last 18 months. (and, quite frankly, a couple of times people have given me over spiritualized "be present" truisms when I've shared my eagerness to reach this August I have wanted to give them two black eyes and asked them when the last time they were separated from their spouse for 15 months was. . .  I'm a horrible person. . . I know. . .), but last night as I was driving home in the dark I started to feel my first real twinge of sadness.  Memories and scenes from the last year began to flash before my eyes.  And while there have been moments that this year has felt like a bit of a horror movie, the truth is I have collected precious times with very special people over the last 365 days.  My time in Princeton has been a period of challenge and, consequently, exponential growth.  Personally and professionally.  It's been 12 of the more difficult months of my life, yet I'm beginning to more fully recognize and appreciate the ways in which this time and space was uniquely formative for me.