Sold

Moving day on Woodcrest Drive.

We sold the house.

Finally.

Jen and I were ready to be done with the place, given the troubles we've had since moving away from South Abington Township about a year and a half ago.

Two floods. Ruined clothes. Ruined boxes. Ruined memories.

But also: A broken grinder pump. Dust. Dirt. Musty odors. Keeping the grass cut. Fixing the deck.

Yet there was a very real sense of sadness as we loaded up our oversized U-Haul truck.

It was the first house that I ever bought.

It was the house to which we brought our daughter from the hospital.

It was where we had dreams of creating a decorative stone wall behind the wood-burning stove.

It was where we were going to start a vegetable garden and grow tomatoes and peppers and cucumbers.

It was where Sophie was going to run around the yard and make friends with the neighbor kids and play games.

It's weird: A weight has been lifted off our chests, but the impression left by that weight isn't rebounding so quickly.

Reason for living

My wife and I haven't gotten much sleep lately. Sophie, who is coming up on 6 weeks old, is sleeping only a few hours at a clip. And much of the time, when she does sleep, one of us is holding her. 

We sleep when we can, but for this nightshifter, I've seen more daylight hours than usual. I'd forgotten that many people start their day at 7 a.m.; I was reminded by the sound of the traffic while singing "This Old Man" to Sophie. 

But here's the thing: I don't mind the lack of sleep. Every parent goes through it. Sooner or later, Sophie will sleep more than two hours at a time. 

It occurred to me last night as I held her against me while we rocked in the rocking chair: I'm the happiest I've been in my life.

In my arms was my little girl. She is my reason for living. And, as she wiggled a bit and gurgled before snuggling in against my chest, I realized there's no better reason.