change doesn't always flow in My Story.

Israel is down for a nap, and even though the girls are home on fall break, Jessie Embry has taken them to the Covey center, so I find myself with a few minutes of my very, very own.

Kinda weird.

Last week, out of the middle of nowhere, something came into focus. Scott is floundering a bit when it comes to this, his (supposed-to-be) last year of the PhD program. He just can’t give it quite as much time as he should. Living in Provo and commuting to the U isn’t making anything easier. It’s quite affordable, with the free frontrunner pass, but it does eat up his oh-so-scarce time.

The thing is: we own this house. We’ve now lived here 10 years. Moving (even just renting the thing out) for what should be only a year or a year-and-a-half would turn life upside down. We’ve lived here so long, we know just where to get our raw milk, our bulk food, our health supplements… we know who we trust for a good haircut, which bookstore is my favorite, who gives good piano lessons, and just discovered all about the cool local history seminars at Zion’s Mercantile (!) We have acquaintances, we have neighbors, we have friends. (I think. We’re kinda introverts.) We uprooted the girls this year already due to my seizures and switched Betsy’s school. She adjusted flawlessly and is happy, but I don’t want to uproot her again.

But I kinda think we might just do it. We might just rent out the top and bottom of the house separately (assuming we can get the proper zoning, which actually shouldn’t be a big deal) and go move into the on-campus student housing in all its cinderblock wall and everyone-was-born-in-the-90s glory.

It would end up being sixes as far as the cost goes, but I think it would be really helpful for Scott. And I’d like him to finish up sooner than later, which would be more likely to happen living closer.

I thought there would be all sorts of lead-up time to when we actually left. All sorts of symbolic pre-emptive changes, like Betsy’s baptism, Scott graduating, having job interviews, all that. But change doesn’t always flow so smoothly and predictably, and moving feels better than I thought it would. And Scott feels so, so much more open to it than it did when we considered the possibility a few years ago.

I don’t know. Maybe it won’t happen. Maybe it shouldn’t happen. I’ll be fine if so. (Better than fine, really.) Maybe thinking about it is just what I need to be more grateful and less complain-y while we finish this dang program up. But …maybe it will happen. Maybe it needs to happen. And maybe I need to open myself up to that change. But if so, oh, how I will miss Provo. It has been home. It has been home longer than any other place I’ve ever lived.