& the flowers bloomed

Around the holidays it has been harder not living in my birth home. Having already spent Christmas away from the "home" I always knew and now Easter coming up, it's been harder than I would have ever expected. I know that you are thinking that I should just get over it, but the thing is it's hard to get over. I really really want to move on but the simple reminders hurt. And holidays are big. After spending my entire life where our family and family traditions began, it's tough.

At my old house, in the backyard, my Grandma planted these beautiful yellow flowers surrounding the garden. I used to go outside and sit there, just looking at them. Looking at the beauty that they have. I always loved to pick them and put them in vases all over the house. I always loved giving them to people, and even my neighbors loved to pick them. I loved those flowers more than anyone ever knew.

As we were moving out, slowly the flowers bloomed. It hurt. It hurt seeing the flowers big and beautiful and not living there to enjoy them. The sentimental value they hold, the fact that my biggest inspiration planted them, and the fact that they had been there since I was little. I love those flowers. I love that house. That was my home. It will always be special to me.

Maybe I thought since we don't live there anymore that the flowers wouldn't bloom. Maybe in my imagination I thought that since we don't live there, no one else would, and it just would be any empty house. Or maybe that's what I had hoped.

The fact is the flowers bloomed.

And Easter is Sunday, and we are celebrating it in our new home. Maybe as holidays pass, it will get easier eventually.

Easter post, coming your way, be on the look out.