Friday, November 21, 2008

Moving Day - Four

The kitchen is packed up, except for the kitchen island and refrigerator, and moved. Only the essentials remain: medicines, paper plates, plastic cups and utensils, quick food items, a mug and the coffee pot. I will not miss this kitchen too much. The counters are granite, which is nice, but these shiny counters are so dark and mottled that I never really knew if they were clean. The sink is black. Who thought of that? The cabinets are beautiful and white, but the floor is also white and unsealed. A cleaning nightmare. Daily.

As I finished packing up the spices and bowls last night, I found numerous post-it love notes from John. Small "I love You"s that have sustained me this past year. Even though I know that John will never stop sticking notes in our cabinets, on the mirrors and on my heart, I tucked them into the boxes with the dishes.

Our love for one another, our children, our parents and our friends is the easiest thing to move and pack this week. This love is sustaining and encouraging, lasting and strengthening. Without it, we would break. With it, we endure. The move is making these relationships stronger, better.

I was awake before John and the girls this morning. The house was quiet except for the heater and the sun was shining through the stained glass window in the dining room onto a large stack of packed boxes. I padded through the living room and into the kitchen to make coffee. As I opened the cupboard to grab the last coffee cup in the house, I read a love note that is usually hidden behind a stack of vintage blue and white dinner plates. A note that will stay with the house after we are gone. A note from John.


  1. How romantic.. this sent cold chills down my back.. My husband is always buying me cards for no reason..we have the best dont' we? Good luck with your move. I just discovered you this morning.. I'm going to add you to my blog list so I can keep up with your move..
    hugs ~lynne~

  2. Kelly Darling:

    There seems to be some question as to whether you are domestic. Let’s see. So far, we have moved your five sewing machines, twenty-some boxes of craft, knitting and sewing supplies, and approximately twenty-five big boxes of kitchen appliances, vintage aprons, flow blue dishes, eclectic coffee cups, cookie cutters, wicker baskets and nearly every cutlery and cake decorating item ever invented. We've even moved your ramekins. I figure if you have ramekins, you're either Niles Crane or you are domestic.

    What goes without question, however, is that you are an unfailingly devoted and loving wife and mother. You are a talented and interesting person with a wonderful sense of humor. And patience. You are unquestionably my best friend, and I am, in fact, without a doubt, the luckiest man alive. I love you. I adore you. And all I want is to be with you. You are the love of my life. Undeniably.