'Change' - not a word I have ever been a fan of. I do like the refreshing feel of freshly changed sheets and a rearranged living room once in a while. But I work hard to make things work in the way I want them to so they can stay that way. I like routine, and don't do well with the unexpected or unknown.
Tomorrow Dave's cousin, Scott, who has lived with us since April is packing it up and heading back to Ohio. It's hard for me to not try to convince him of his 'mistake' of leaving. But I am reminded that he is an adult, and that he has no responsibilities or commitments holding him back from making these kids of freedom laced decisions. But I don't like change, and I don't like good-byes either. So, I want to put my motherly foot down and spare my actual children the hurt of losing someone they [we] have come to love so much. But I won't. To everything there is a season, and the season of 'guy living in the basement' is over. We'll stand in the driveway waving goodbye and I'll hate change once again. Yet, somehow still wait excitedly to see what change is coming next. Turn, turn, turn...
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