We're Moving. It's Sad.

Sometimes you can feel a season ending, and it hurts. I've waited so long for the details and plans surrounding Hyrum's clinical trial, and we're finally getting there! It's not the "red light, green light" situation I expected, but we're working through layer after layer of approvals so that Hyrum can be treated at Stanford. It's probably the BEST clinical trial in the country right now, and if all continues as expected, we'll be there in the fall. 

That said, this week it finally hit me: the closer we get to securing a clinical trial plan, the closer we are to leaving this perfect summer. This perfect place. 18 months ago, I couldn't explain why I felt a sudden, urgent need to move away from Utah. There was no "real" reason to choose Oklahoma. We bought our house without ever seeing it in person. But, just weeks after arriving, I found myself rocking Emily in our kitchen, crying quietly because this is a place my soul already knew. 

It's the kind of home I always dreamed about. Red brick. Open spaces. A quiet, tree-lined street. 3 walkable parks, an around the corner library, and an elementary school I could hit with a rock. Neighbors we adore. Even more, this is the kind of LIFE I always dreamed about. Early morning walks with my kids, working my flexible at-home job, exploring the world with Michael, hosting dinners, meeting new people, swimming in the summer, and just helping people. Our time here has been one of the GREATEST treasures of my life. 

Our medical travels will last at least 3 months. If the treatments are beneficial, Hyrum can receive infusions at Stanford indefinitely. If they're not, most of the other treatments for his condition are hosted at west-coast hospitals. Seattle, San Francisco, Utah, Denver. Knowing this, we discussed our options for "home base" during this unique time. Miraculously, (and I mean that with a big, huge, capital "M") we have family in Palo Alto (Stanford) and in Utah who are willing and able to house us. (A detail deserving of its own post. We are so grateful, privileged, and humbled to benefit from their goodness. I can't accurately describe all my feelings about this.)

For various reasons, I was unwilling to sell our OK house and Michael was unwilling to rent it. Paying for an empty house for months to years felt unsavory to both of us. Then, one evening, a quiet, heavenly nudge: "You need to consider selling the house." I cried the whole next day. That night, it hurt so bad just to imagine saying goodbye to all of this that I couldn't hold still with it: I just had to pace our street, sobbing and eventually submitting to the calming, constant sound of the cicadas.

I will say this much about momentum: I have always felt a different "flow" when I'm moving forward in an inspired direction. So many of my dating relationships just plunked along aimlessly, but with Michael everything flowed. So many emotional mom moments I've hung myself up on some issue, and then God shows me another way to see things, and life just flows again. This decision to move is still full of many emotions for me, but I feel the flow. It's the next right thing. 

I am still heart-broken about the idea of selling this house. One small consolation is that we know we're coming back to Oklahoma (and we'll have a storage unit full of stuff to prove it). We have fallen in love with this place, and we know that this is where we will heal, grow, and give best after our cancer battle has come to a close. As much as I hate to leave this perfect home, it will be better for us not to come back to empty spaces. A backyard gazebo with only 2 pirates instead of 3. The garden that we planted for him. The bedroom that used to be his. 

The end of a season will hurt. Always. But every time I've done this, (as a missionary leaving areas, at our move to OK, as a mom sending kids to school), I've found it better not to fight against life's flow. Call it what it is: a painful end of a beloved phase. Cry. Remember. Mourn. Eat lol The cold, hard recognition allows me to (eventually) see the inevitable beginning that accompanies every end. What is the season that follows? Where is the phase that's coming next? There are always things to look forward to, dreams still to be had. I mean, we get to be with Hyrum's cousins again! And live in the most gorgeous Palo Alto campus imaginable. Near a beach. We should probably just call it our long vacation! There's a lot of peace in it - hurting at the end so you can hope for the beginning. It's what we're doing now.