Packing up and actually going

Many years ago, my husband and I decided to pack up and go. Move south, move west, just move the hell out of New England and its unrelenting winters and taxes. Then immediately I got pregnant and he got very,very sick. We spent at least a year unable to work and destitute (thanks so much to our parents who kept us afloat financially and everyone who kept us from drowning spiritually). 

It's been a few years now. Gone is the terrifying, very possible reality that my husband could die if we move away from his doctors. (Mostly) gone are the crippling hospital bills that could've paid for an entire house. So what's left? A family with dreams of something better yet to come, a better understanding of reality, and a shit ton of appreciation that life is just too damn short. 

My heart aches with this decision. A decision we made so many years ago and life got in the way. In the meantime what happened here in CT makes it so much harder to leave, so gives just as many reasons to go. 

Life is short. New England, with all its seasons and beauty- it sucks. It's too cold at least half the year. People are cold. People are mean. And they are bad drivers. 

It's so very hard thinking about the next year or so still in CT. I feel like I should do as much as I can, spend as much time with people as I can. My heart is already in Tennessee.  But such a huge part will always be home.