The Move
The Move
I remember my dad calling us into the living room, telling us that we needed to take a seat. I knew it was coming; we’ve been talking about it for months. Now that it was finally here, I didn’t want to hear it. My heart was pounding, nervous to hear the news. My dad sat down next to my mom, took a deep breath and said, “We’re moving.” The two words no kid wants to hear. My heart sunk. I knew it was coming, but just hearing those words made it reality. Little did I know, moving to Iowa was going to be better for us, and our family.
My dad moved to Iowa in April of 2009. My mom, sister and I stayed back to finish school and pack the house. The last days of my eight-grade year got worse and worse. The realization started to sink in, knowing that I have to leave all my friends behind, and not being able to go to high school with them. Having to move 6 hours away was hard to comprehend. It was like living in a bad dream, and not waking up.
Moving day came faster than I thought. My mom came into my room to wake me, telling me to pack up the rest of my things and come downstairs. I dreaded getting up and seeing an empty house, watching the movers load up the u-haul, and saying goodbye to the people I loved the most.
As I made my way down stairs, my house looked creepier and creepier with every step. I entered the living room expecting to find a home. Instead, I found nothing. Nothing but plain walls with no life. The room was completely emptied, the walls were bare, and dust bunnies outlining where the furniture should’ve been. Even though my house was full of people, boxes and furniture; it was empty. There was no color, expression, or love. This wasn’t my home anymore, and I had to accept that.
We arrived to our new home on the 7th and began unpacking. My sister and I ran inside to see the new house and claim our rooms. Iowa was so much more different than Wisconsin. Instead of seeing tall buildings and traffic, there were cornfields and gravel
I remember my dad calling us into the living room, telling us that we needed to take a seat. I knew it was coming; we’ve been talking about it for months. Now that it was finally here, I didn’t want to hear it. My heart was pounding, nervous to hear the news. My dad sat down next to my mom, took a deep breath and said, “We’re moving.” The two words no kid wants to hear. My heart sunk. I knew it was coming, but just hearing those words made it reality. Little did I know, moving to Iowa was going to be better for us, and our family.
My dad moved to Iowa in April of 2009. My mom, sister and I stayed back to finish school and pack the house. The last days of my eight-grade year got worse and worse. The realization started to sink in, knowing that I have to leave all my friends behind, and not being able to go to high school with them. Having to move 6 hours away was hard to comprehend. It was like living in a bad dream, and not waking up.
Moving day came faster than I thought. My mom came into my room to wake me, telling me to pack up the rest of my things and come downstairs. I dreaded getting up and seeing an empty house, watching the movers load up the u-haul, and saying goodbye to the people I loved the most.
As I made my way down stairs, my house looked creepier and creepier with every step. I entered the living room expecting to find a home. Instead, I found nothing. Nothing but plain walls with no life. The room was completely emptied, the walls were bare, and dust bunnies outlining where the furniture should’ve been. Even though my house was full of people, boxes and furniture; it was empty. There was no color, expression, or love. This wasn’t my home anymore, and I had to accept that.
We arrived to our new home on the 7th and began unpacking. My sister and I ran inside to see the new house and claim our rooms. Iowa was so much more different than Wisconsin. Instead of seeing tall buildings and traffic, there were cornfields and gravel