Getting on Board The Change Train (moving and a new family member)

Once, a long time ago, I heard the following phrase; "The only thing constant is change." My reaction at the time was nervous discontent. It felt, to my 20 something self, that there was no way to control the circumstances of my life... no way to keep what was good in place, no way to ensure an outcome of my desire.
Well, add another 20 years of life, and plenty of unexpected change, and oddly enough, the vast majority of that anxiety about the unpredictable nature of life has faded. If there was one thing my sweet husband imprinted on me, it’s that life is filled with uncertainty. And the greatest power we have exists in how we choose to be with it; how we perceive what takes place and how we fortify ourselves with the good that ultimately and always exists in any situation.
So now my husband is "gone" (although I feel him near me, sometimes undeniably so) and this morning I sit here in a house full of boxes, preparing to leave forever this place we, together, called home.
This sacred space held so much for us. It is where we moved in together as a couple in January of 2006 and set up house amidst his constantly growing tooth pain that, the following month, on February 17th, was discovered to be cancer. Shortly thereafter this blog began. This is where we dwelled through the ups and down's of cancer treatment and cried "tissue mountains" through the hardest and most courageous conversations about life and death and love everlasting. It is where we opened our doors and our hearts to the world and invited so many earth angels in to travel with us, love us, support us and grow with us. This place is where we came home to as husband and wife, where we loved and laughed and cried and this place, within these walls, is where my beloved North Man died.
Needless to say, packing up our things and deciding what to keep and what goes, and overall just preparing to say goodbye to this place, has been hard. One minute I'll be filling a box singing along to North's i-pod, the next I am wrapping paper around a photo or trinket of his and I am a pile of tears and sorrow on the floor. But usually just and quickly (thank God) I am back to singing again, and I guess that's just the way it goes. Cousin Dan talked me through a particularly difficult night and reminded me that the memories and sacred things that make this place special don't exist in the wood and walls and tile, they live in my heart. And he is right of course. It helps to be reminded of that. But it's still hard.
So for those of you who may not know what is next for me, I will share very briefly with more details to come in future blogs. I am fulfilling a long held dream of mine to be a gypsy and travel this great nation with no real agenda and only myself to find. So, if all goes as planned (and leaving plenty of room for our friend "uncertainty"), I am purchasing a used RV (probably a pull behind travel trailer) and somewhere near the end of March or early April, and in the nature of Jack Karouac, Charles Kuralt, and countless others, I am "Hitting The Road"! Where to and for how long are currently unknown variables. I guess I'm taking the uncertainty of life head on and look forward to discoveringing what's in store.
On a final note for today, I adopted a new rescue dog to add to our tiny family of Barnie and I. I would post a photo but for some reason that option is non-existent today. Just suffice it to say he is BIG and sweet and Barnie likes him. More on how he got his name and his and our progress soon.
And once again, thank you for reading and caring and being a part of my life.
Namaste',
Stef