packing, moving, familyFor the second time this year, I’m packing up a sister to move. In January, it was Sarah moving back to Portugal. Now, it’s Hannah moving out to Colorado.

It’s hard. Not only because I don’t know when I’ll see each of them again, but also because by the time I’m wrapping their plates in bubble wrap and cleaning out their hall closets, my sisters are already gone. They haven’t left yet physically, but packing up is all that stands in the way of them getting on with their new lives.

I understand. I’ve moved plenty. I know that by the time you’re packing boxes, your heart and head are largely on where you’re going, not what you’re leaving. Still, it’s lonely for me to be on the staying end of my sisters’ moves. I’ll continue to travel the daily places and spaces we used to share. Only now I’ll have to do it minus their perspectives and companionship.

Today, I listened as Hannah excitedly chirped about her new Colorado home. I’m happy for her. This move is an answer to prayer in every way. But, her adventure is not mine. Our paths are diverging. For her, a new trail ahead. For me, perseverance along a well-worn path, with a twist. For the first time, no sister is living in Orlando with me. I miss her already, even though there are still boxes to pack. Together.