I'm having computer problems, so I'm writing via my iPhone. Today I moved into my new home. It's a home I fell immediately in love with. During the past few days I have trying to coordinate so many things at once, and found myself amazed at how smoothly it was all going. As others have pointed out to me lately, life seems to be going my way.
If life is going my, then why did I find myself in tears last night?
It was the end of a very long day. Most of my things at my temporary home were packed up, and many of them had been driven over to the new house. I had my cousin helping me out. Then late in the evening I realized that the next day was the big move, and I would be completely on my own. The problem was that I had two cars to move, yet by the next day I would be the only driver. You see I haven't been able to part with Michael's car. He loved that car, and we took so many wonderful day trips in it. When I shared my dilemma, my cousin was quick to offer to follow me out to the new house.
I shouldn't be surprised, but as soon as I got into the car, and began driving it to my new home, I began sobbing. I was driving home, and he would never be there. I was driving home, and I would be expected to be happy. I was driving home, and I needed to be open to new possibilities.
I was driving home