dear cash, ilya, and rumi, we moved into this house on east pender street in november 2010. a run down yellowish brown house far from the curb that the landlords said they would paint in the spring. after looking for quite a few months on craigslist we happened to drive by this house. there was a sign on a post hammered into the front lawn. the lawn was mainly weeds that shot up higher than the flat turf of fuzzy green moss. dad called the number on the sign, they picked up right away, we started to move forward. we moved here from william street seven blocks away. kyle and anna's basement suite that dad had built after they bought their house. it was the home in which you were both born, 19 months apart, the home we had to say goodbye to dc in, the home we welcomed gussy into. it was time to go, we needed more space. i was quite scared of the move. i wasn't sure if i could fly on my own, apart from kyle and anna, the community we had in that house, the neighbours we had over the fence. the familiarity. cash you were 2 and ilya close to 7 months when we first moved to east pender. it's now over 2 years later. i wonder when you are older what you will remember. when i close my eyes i see the back yard, i see cash and ilya naked, playing with the hose, i see loudness and chaos and mess, i see cash's long hair and ilya learning how to walk, i see a stained carpet, i see your bodies running in and out from room to room, squeals of laughter, playing chase with one another. i see a mother trying to figure it all out, too often going inward, in over her head juggling too many things with three kids under three. i see anger, i see laughter, i see tears, i see progress, i see a mother trying her best, and as 2012 comes to a close i see her having taken huge steps. she can breathe. life feels lighter and at times easier. all three kids are fully mobile which is freeing her arms and her body back up again. the dance of independence. babes, please know, my arms are open wide, always ready and waiting for you. i see anna in our kitchen. i see her black slouch hat and black puffer jacket, me having to say goodbye to a woman who i viewed as your second mother, the woman who was moving away and taking your best friend with her. i see cash trying to console his mama, "but, you'll still have me" after the tears were becoming too much. i see rumi's birth, standing in the shower, tim delivering, cash in the hallway. i can see the mountain view and the little league baseball diamonds across the street. as we look ahead to 2013 there is uncertainty. moving house, a new neighbourhood, a new familiar, a summer without a big yard, cash starting kindergarten in the fall. i'm trusting that "it all belongs." goodbye east pender, you will be missed, may it be a fresh start to a new year.