Sorrow

I was overcome by a wave of despondency this morning as I drove to sign our lease in New Home - almost shockingly so.

I have no idea why. Things seem to be going along fairly well at work and with the move. Very soon, The Ravishing Mrs. TB, Na Clann, Syrah the Mighty, the cats, and the rabbits and I will all be together.

So why so sad?

As I finished signing the lease, got my keys, and headed back to work, I realized what it was: pride and sorrow.

We have had a house for the last 9 years. It was our house. We could do what we wanted with it. It was ours.

To lease is to be humble. To admit, at least for me, that in some small way, I am not in control anymore. To ask for permission instead of acting on things like pets or room colors. To pay only for living, making someone else money instead of ourselves. To be struck, in one brief shining moment, of just how little control I seem to have.

The whole weight of the everything that has happened came plummeting into my soul like a ton of bricks, held in my hand by a pair of jingling keys for home I will live in but is not mine.

This is not where I intended to be.