Catching-Up and A Fond Farewell

I really could not bring myself to fully realize what it means: Tamsyn is moving away. We've known for quite some time that they would be looking for a new home state, a place to retire to, where they could have room for horses, six cats, two dogs and two birds. I sheltered my heart from the actual day we would have to say good-bye. I did not want to imagine not seeing her face, hearing her laugh, and knowing that we could not expect her to pop over to play. Now that I am thinking about it, I am crying. I will miss her too much. I am very sad.


I remember quite clearly the first time she knocked at our Treehouse door. She was tiny and polite, introducing herself and asking so sweetly if anyone would like to come out and play. And it seems like they haven't stopped playing since that first day.


Since January of 2004 we have been to parks and ponds, and camping. We've shared birthdays and hikes, dinners, sleep-overs, picnics, good times and sad times, horse rides, kittens, and lost cats, berry picking, apple picking and lemon picking and all kinds of pies.


Our homes were open and the children enjoyed countless days running around together, exploring yards and trees, playing games, and celebrating seasons. Did they ever not get along? Maybe there were debates or minor misunderstandings, but nothing lasting or too upsetting. They maintained friendships that were full of good will and kindness. They shared common interests, like computer games and fantasy, hiking around the trails that led from the backyards at the Treehouse and their house next door. They built wonderful Lego structures together, including one that won a prize from Lego Magazine.


Tamsyn has been a member of our family, a sister to my children, and like a daughter to me. And when my children were in her home, with Carol and Gene, they were as welcome as family, happy to help look after their dogs Jasper and Pippin, thankful for the chance to try horse riding and find constellations through their telescope.


We want whatever is best for the people we love and I know that Tamsyn is destined for great adventures and success, that she will be happy in her new Virginia home. But I wish they were staying close by... close enough that I could still hear her singing. She sings beautifully. Close enough that we can carve pumpkins, build gingerbread houses and bake apple pies together, then build a fort out of fallen branches and thrift shop sheets anytime... whenever we want. Close enough that I can hear the children laughing in the backyard.


I will miss our friends. I will miss the simple pleasures we enjoyed when we got together.

I was going to post about how many things I have been neglecting to take care of, like correspondence and phone calls. I've been meaning to answer emails and get organized, and other usual chores. I want to clear out all the school related clutter that we've been accumulating. There are important points on my list of things to do, but my thoughts are elsewhere. My heart is distracted. I think I'll go find the children, hug them, invite them out for a little silliness.