Moving Out and Moving On

It was my fourteenth birthday when we moved into this house.  And then a few weekends ago we helped my parents load their belongings onto trucks, emptying every room.  Memories of my teenage years were with me like ghosts.


I remembered the spot in the office where Lynn and I hid behind the oversized chair eating ice cream straight from the carton like total rebels.  I remembered taking prom pictures on the staircase.  I remembered the family room where we would come together to watch American Idol, or have FHE, or open presents on Christmas day.

It's not necessarily that I'll miss the house {although the backyard was a dream} but I feel like my parents moving marks the end of an era.  The Collett family is starting to spread out on the map, and lives are moving along separate paths.

Mom and Dad aren't just retiring, they're striking out on new adventures, living in a new state, leaving friends and family for a new experience.  Personally, I think that's excellent because they deserve some adventure.  But it makes moving on all the more difficult for me.

In his short life, Camden has always known this place as "Papa's house."  When we lived down there he always asked to go, and even since we've moved further away he consistently requests to visit.  How do you explain to a two-year-old what is about to change?



There were just a few scraps of memorabelia I'd been storing up in my old bedroom closet, and going through it… well, it took me forever.  Ask Roy, I have to pull out every picture, read every journal entry, and share it with every person within shouting distance.

But the fact of the matter is, you can't keep every single item that holds a memory.  I had a giant black garbage bag up there, and I forced myself to fill it with the things I realistically could live without.  Like this old phone that I doodled on in the eighth grade with a silver sharpie while I talked to my friends about stupid boys and stupid teachers {eye-roll}.  I think more than one breakup happened over this baby!


Or the ribbon bouquet from my bridal shower.  Need I show you more?  No, I think you get it.


So as we filled up boxes and garbage bags, we ate lunch on the floor and slept on pads on the ground.  It was like camping, except with air conditioning and no wild animals.  Win!  {This particular lunch, Camden asked for peanut butter and eggs… ?  Ooookay.}


Camden and I seemed to mostly be there for moral support, although we tried to help out where we could.


And other times we tried to stay out of the way.  Counting rocks found in the back of Zac's closet was a great way to keep busy.


Then those last moments arrived.  We did all of Camden's favorite things to do at Papa's house.  Like jump on the trampoline...


Play foosball, {or Camden's version of foosball}…


Go for a swim...


And be with some of our very most favorite people in the whole wide world.



I should have pushed everyone in for this last picture.  You know?  Made one last awesome memory at the old house?  {Awesome for me, wet for them.}

Driving away was weird, knowing that we would never be on that driveway again.  Mom checked the mail for the very last time, and we left.


My youngest brother is officially living in Sahuarita now, so it was his responsibility to finish up.  This snap chat was the last picture of the house, right before he locked the door.


Moving out is one thing, moving on is another.  Luckily everyone in our family has some crazy fantastic things to move on to.  So even though it's the end of an era, it's the start of an exciting one.

{Yeah, I'm a sap!}

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