So they all went away from the little log house. The shutters were over the windows, so the little house could not see them go. It stayed there inside the log fence, behind the two big oak trees that in the summertime had made green roofs for Mary and Laura to play under. And that was the last of the little house.
Laura Ingalls Wilder
Little House on the Prairie
This is one of my favorite lines from all of the Little House books, and it was exactly what I was feeling when we pulled out of the driveway to begin our trip to Oklahoma. It felt as though I was leaving a family member behind, and I could barely see to say goodbye through my tears.
As I did a final walk through of the house, taking pictures of the empty rooms and one more of the familiar fireplace I couldn't help but cry. Tears welled in my eyes as I recalled memories in each room, and said goodbye to each one. Trevor met me in the kitchen and held me as he prayed over me, and said a prayer of thankgiving for the many years we had been able to call it home. The house where Nathan started his first day of Kindergarten and where Gracie learned how to walk.
The tears continued to fall as we said goodbye to his family, but slowly they stopped the further we got down the road. As I drove, I began to look forward to getting to Tulsa and to getting the new house in order. I thought about my new job and all of the friends that we had already made, and I felt better. I thought about all the people who care about me and who have been faithful to offer prayers on my behalf over the last several months, and I felt even better than before. I thought about how richly I have been blessed by God in so many ways that can never be named or put on a list.
I am loved.
My geographical location might change over the years, and I may have to say goodbye over and over again to those I love but one thing will never change: I am loved.