Transition begins long before the goodbyes have been said and the suitcases packed.  There are ‘lasts’ for weeks before the departure date – last playdate, last meal at a favorite restaurant, the last Sunday at church, the last iceskating lesson, the last time at the library. . .  I don’t emphasize those ‘lasts’ to my children.  I keep a mental tally, but don’t remind them in the final days that this will be the last.  I know it is only the last for this season, but not necessarily the last for a lifetime.

The transition for me began when I went through my children’s copious amounts of artwork – colorings, drawings, cuttings, paper puppets.  They spend hours every day creating things.  I can’t keep them all.  Some get repurposed as stationary.  Others get mailed to friends or relatives. Some get stored in that special box for posterity.  Other pieces find themselves in the trash bin.  This is when I know we are moving – I can no longer hold on to every piece of my child’s creations, crafted during the season we lived in this particular location.  At our next locale which, in this case, is Romania, my children will have different experiences to draw upon, different inputs.  Their creations will be unique to this new season of life.  Just as I quietly lament the passing of the season, I eagerly anticipate the season to come.

This transition will be long.  In fact, with no firm housing arrangements, we may not have a permanent home for months.  Before we arrive in Romania we will be in Portugal, Germany, Austria, Hungary and Slovakia.  This is a season of travel, but more pointedly, a season of transition.  And I am reminded that whether we feel it or not, everyone of us is always in transition – babies are born, children are growing and changing sleep patterns, we change grades in school, friends move, jobs change.  The unsettled feeling of transition is the feeling of life.  It is the longing for our eternal home, the only place where there will be no uncertainty, no transition, and no instability.  In the meantime, while we wait for that glorious moment to come to fruition, we will live the life that is transition.  Join us for the ride!

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One of our ‘lasts,’ for a season – the Norfolk Botanical Gardens in spring: