Last night Matt and I went to see the house we will be living in after we get married. Settled in a private neighborhood within Bay View, it’s a two-story duplex with a huge kitchen, three bedrooms, a living room and pantry. Because the owner is Matt’s sister, we are getting a fantastic break in the rent. Really. The price is unbelievable for all we’re getting (including new water heaters!!).

It’s huge. It’s safe. Matt won’t get held up walking home from work and my car won’t get broken into while I’m taking a nap. I won’t have to eat dinner on his bed and we can both be in the kitchen at the same time (I’m speaking of course about his apartment right now).

Even so…I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. 

The idea of living with my husband next year is a little daunting, to say the least. No more will I wake up to my mom making coffee and drawing the curtains, asking me about my impending day and calling “Goodbye, God bless, have a good day!” whenever I leave.

While this realization does make me feel a little sad, I do know that I have more good days coming. Recently I’ve been working on a MyFaith article about Theology of the Body. One priest I talked with described waiting for love not as saying “no” to things in life, but “yes” to what’s to come. It’s weird how this small area of teaching can put things in perspective.

It’s not that I’m saying goodbye to my childhood (yes, I still think of myself as a child, mainly because I still live with my parents) but actually hello to a new beginning with my very own family. 

How weird is that?


Music playing while writing this: “Buona Sera” by Dean Martin