My sister moved out this weekend.
Now it’s just me and my husband.
She moved south to Charlotte, and we’ll be following her come the end of November.
I miss her, as I expected to. In some ways, it’s nice getting to have three months alone with my husband. Like a vacation of sorts. But I love her so much, and I so enjoy her company, and the house seems so lonely without her. I won’t see her again until after Thanksgiving.
She’s moved to be with her boyfriend, and we will move to be with her. To keep our family whole.
Still, I miss her, and the house is full of her memories. There’s less furniture, and it feels so empty. I only have to cook for two now.
Husband and I are choosing to take this time to work on our new marriage, as stodgy as it sounds to say that out loud. Thus far in our brief marriage, we’ve been spending so much time taking care of her and worrying about her in the stress of her finishing school and wondering what the future holds. Now we know that in three months we’ll be moving into our apartment with them, to start a new life. So we can take this time to be together, to enjoy one another’s company fully.
Still, I miss her. And the house is full of memories.
It’s so bittersweet I’m not sure how to feel. I’m so sad that she’s not around that I keep bursting into tears at the most inopportune moments. And then I’ll think of how happy I am to be alone with him and me, and I feel happy. And then I feel confused.