Each night after work, Luke and I have been packing.

The going through what to keep is well annoying. A friend of mine told me “Hold each object for at least two minutes, then you will be able to tell if you you are meant to keep it.”

That’s fine and all, but we would both be dead at the end.

Moving brings out nostalgia. Memories of times with family and friend. Parties and in my case hideous chicken wallpaper, I tore down during my birthday.

You reflect on those who have moved away, and those who are right down the street but still feels like worlds apart.

I lived in this house for over eight years. The second longest, after the home I grew up in.

Attachment to a place comes from connection and the pieces you put on the shelves and walls, like I lovingly placed which belonged to my Dad and my grandparents.

There have been ice jigs in the kitchen, cookouts on the porch and a dance party or two.

Time and places may fade, but memories remain the same.

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Seeing the world through young eyes

While I was growing up, vacations were not really on priority list of my parents.

If they had been perhaps life would have taken a different turn…

As an adult, I never let the chance to experience a new place slip by.

Last month, we took a family vacation to a beach none of us had ever been to.

This time will have a special spot in my heart forever.

To be able to play in the waves, see dolphins, explore together and see my niece and nephew play together well it was magical.

When you pack up to leave and embark on facing reality, you take more than the memories. Sometimes there may still be sand in the book you enjoyed or seashells stuffed in a pocket.

Our last night there, my nephew Jack made a speech, a toast you may say about our first family vacation together.

“We tried something new, and we all had a good time.”

uncle luke and haze on the beach