There is an echo in our home these days. Several weeks ago the first part of our move happened. The movers came and packed up everything that was to be placed in storage for the next three years. The morning they were to arrive, it didn't seem like it was a big deal. Until those things were gone.
I cried when they moved my dressers to the truck. They weren't anything special, but they were mine. And I have had them ever since I can remember. My mom says they were bought at an auction when I was a child. Cheap and used but again… mine. And with each knick and scrape that I put on them, a little bit more of myself went into them. They had moved back and forth from every apartment and town I have ever lived in. All those moves, but they were always there. Familiar. Comfortable. As they were carried out of the bedroom, it was like a piece of me went missing.
We spend all this time trying to fill up our lives, our homes, with belongings. Some are small, some are silly, and some are sentimental. We want to make ourselves comfortable. Some of the things that moved to storage were completely inconsequential. In fact, in three years, I am sure I won’t even remember I owned some of them.
What has been left behind is only what moves with us. The essentials. With the rest gone, my heart has felt a little hole open up. In my home, only an echo is left behind. It seems lonely in our home without our belongings. I am a lonely without them.
And yet these are just things. Oh, how I have cried over them. How will I handle being without my family... my friends… if this is how worked up I get over a beat up dresser?
Two nights ago another piece left. Just a baker's rack. Sold to the highest bidder. As these pieces are taken away one by one, I have to wonder who I will be without them. Who I will be without my relationships. Will the new experiences waiting overseas fulfill me the way I have hoped?
Don’t get me wrong, I am looking forward to this experience wholeheartedly. Yet still, I look forward to the day when all will be rejoined again. I look forward to the day when the echo that invades my home now will once again be filled with love and laughter of those that care for us.
And, of course, I can’t wait to see my dressers again! My clothes miss them!
‘Hope’ Is an Act of Resistance, Too
6 days ago
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4 comments:
i just want to say that as a first-time visitor it sounds VERY exciting what you're getting ready to do, but it makes total sense that you have mixed feelings. i had a meltdown when i thought we were moving to GEORGIA a few years ago. you know what upset me? ALL THE DAMNED TREES. i cried and cried when we went down there to look for a place. i said i felt claustrophobic. really? i was just scared of change. so you are definitely allowed some major emotions about this. good luck!
I can definitely understand the emotions but DAMN GIRL, you are going to Japan, which makes me crave sashimi and Lost in Translation, RIGHT NOW. I have lived in a 15-block radius for the past 9 yrs and started to freak at idea of moving ONE SUBWAY STOP away...so may not have fortitude for foreign country. But wow - I am so excited for you!
Don't worry about your relationships... you will never be without them! You've done your friends a tremendous favor by starting this blog that we can all share with you. But don't think you'll be rid of any of the people who care about you. This is going to be an amazing adventure... just imagine all of the new pieces that will enter your life in just a few short months.
Oh stop your darn whining and simply remember all the SHOPPING you'll do in a new place to replace the items you're leaving behind! All the new furniture you will have access to buying that you would never see here in the US! (At least not in places we all shop.)
Ok...I'm being a bit harsh because in all honesty, if I were in your place, I would miss my pillow if I couldn't take it with me. I don't know why, but I've always been attached to my pillow. And it's not one particular pillow that I've had all my life (because I'm sure it would be a bit disgusting after using it for 31 years) but whatever pillow I'm currently using and have gotten used to. When I was little and was learning about fire safety in school and how to get out of your home safely (you remember those classes) I would always envision rescuing my pillow as I escaped out my bedroom window. I guess it was my "security blanket" of sorts.
So everyone misses something "odd" in the lives when they have to go without it. And the fact that you're missing your dressers - well that's just because it's been your "security blanket" and that just makes you normal. Of course it kind of makes me look a big ole' kook, doesn't it?
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