Moving: The Emotions of Leaving and Beginning Again
Pittsburgh wasn’t just where we lived. It was home. It’s where Nathan and I built our family, where we watched our babies grow, where we built friendships that felt more like family. It’s where we had our routines—the same grocery store, the same neighbors waving as we walked Willa, the same coffee shop where they knew my order before I even said it. It’s where we felt known.
Leaving all of that behind was heartbreaking. It wasn’t just packing up a house. It was leaving behind years of memories, a community we loved, and a life that felt safe and familiar.
But even in the midst of the grief, I knew this move wasn’t just about leaving. It was about stepping into something new.
Helping the Kids Through the Transition
I think one of the hardest parts of this move has been balancing my own emotions with my kids’
emotions. As a mom, my heart has felt stretched between grieving what we left behind and trying to make this transition as smooth as possible for them. I worried about their first days in a new school, how they’d adjust, if they’d feel lonely, if they’d miss Pittsburgh so much that this new place would never feel like home.
Grayson was especially nervous. He’s a kid who thrives on familiarity, and leaving behind his friends was hard. I could feel his anxiety leading up to his first day. But when he came home that afternoon, his face lit up. “Mom, it actually went really well,” he said, almost surprised. I could have cried right then and there. That relief, that moment of I can do this—it meant everything.
Zoe has handled this transition with a kind of quiet strength that amazes me. She told me she was surprised by how nice everyone was, which made me breathe a little easier. But what made me the most proud? Less than a week into school, she decided to audition for the spring musical. She walked into a brand-new school, not knowing a single person, and said, I’m going to go for it. That takes courage, and watching her step into this new chapter with that kind of bravery is something I’ll never forget.
And then there’s Logan, my sweet, sensitive boy. The first week was tough for him. Adjusting to a new classroom, a new routine, new faces—it all felt overwhelming. He was finally starting to settle in when he got sent home with a fever. Gotta love new school germs. His transition hasn’t been seamless, but he’s doing it—one small step at a time. And I keep reminding him (and myself) that this is a process, not something that happens overnight.
Finding Our Way in a New Place
I think part of me expected that once we arrived in Lynchburg and unpacked, things would feel normal again. But the truth is, adjusting to a new home, a new town, a new life—it takes time. There have been moments where I feel completely overwhelmed, moments where I miss Pittsburgh so much it hurts, moments where I just want to feel settled.
But there have also been moments of joy. Watching the kids explore their new back yard, their laughter filling the air. Seeing Nathan thrive in this new opportunity. Finding small comforts in the unfamiliar.
It’s in those moments that I remind myself—home isn’t just a place. It’s a feeling. And we are creating that feeling here, even if it takes time.
Giving Ourselves Grace
Moving isn’t just about logistics. It’s emotional. It’s heavy. It’s exhausting. There have been days where I feel stretched too thin, where I wonder when this place will start to feel like ours. But then I see my kids laughing, making new friends, finding their way, and I remember—we are doing it.
It won’t happen overnight. Some days will feel easy, and some days will feel hard. But we are taking it one step at a time. We are creating new memories. We are building a new home.
And I know, someday soon, Lynchburg won’t feel new anymore. It will just feel like home.
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