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Learning from Leaving

6/11/2011

2 Comments

 
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Why is shopping for stuff for the new house and mentally laying out the furniture and decor so much more compelling than packing?  I think I'm a hunter.  I like scouring the depths of the internet or unexpected discount stores for deals (I'm looking at you, Mohawk shag rug for $39!  BigLots!  Who knew?).  I like looking for inspiration.  I enjoy feeling like things are accomplished and organized; I just hate actually doing it.

Things are progressing with our sale.  My friend Mindy came by tonight and said, "It's hitting me that you're not going to be here anymore.  And that will not be convenient for me."  I am feeling it too.  Part of why I'm not packing is because that's just how I am.  I am a procrastinator, and there are three more weeks until we move.  I have worked hard to acquire boxes so things can be packed.  I have freecycled and even stolen (sort of.  Empty boxes outside someone's house in a pile.  I knocked on the door and they didn't answer.  That's not really stealing, right? I sincerely apologize if you're a freecycler who was supposed to pick up those boxes on the 600 block of S. Patterson Park Avenue.  My bad).  Anyway, I am excited about the new house becoming a home.  Maybe even a bit obsessed.  I fall asleep mentally decorating the girls' room (there will be a reading nook.  And a canopy!).  I scour Craigslist daily.  Daniel says I'm ahead of myself, and he's right. 

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We really are moving. Last weekend our new neighborhood threw a party to welcome us.  On the riverbank, it was lovely and they were warm.  Mirabella picked strawberries and planted carrots and tomatoes she's looking forward to harvesting after we move. We felt at ease and welcome.  Except when the charming 7-year-old girl I met asked, "Why are you so fat?" 

"Umm, I don't think I'm fat," I said, fake smiling.

"Well, your belly's fat," she remarked.  "Do you have a baby in there?"

"No, but thank you for asking," I said.

"Well, it looks like you do."  Now, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't angry.  Daniel said I needed to let it go.  As you can see, I have not taken his advice. But aside from that, it was wonderful. 

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I know we are moving, but it's hard to imagine. I know part of why I'm putting it off is because it's sad.  This has been our only home together.  I have pictures of me in my wedding dress in this house.  It's where we adjusted to living together, where I first realized I couldn't storm off to my apartment when things got hard. Here we learned to pinch pennies, dreamed of the future, and learned to love the now.  It's where we became parents, where we became a team.  Living in this house has taught us so much and I will miss it terribly.  Seeing it in boxes means I can't pretend it's not real.  

I know it's time for us to go.  I know there are things we are learning in the leaving and in the next stop.  I believe there will be healing and new obstacles in our new place. And of course there are things I won't miss, like my daily chore of circling the block for bad parking while Mirabella asks, "Mommy, did dat guy take your spot?  I will pray dat we get a spot, right in front of our house, okay?"  Okay, maybe I will miss that a little bit.  She really does pray it, out loud, then waits expectantly when we pull up.  Her faith humbles me.  I bet she doesn't fall asleep wondering what rug will be on the floor of her new room or how her things are going to get there.

2 Comments
Connie
6/13/2011 07:58:41 am

What a beautiful picture of you! It reminds me of a 1940's/50's nostalgic timeless photo. I love it. I hope you have that picture printed and framed somewhere in black and white.

So many emotions when you are moving! And like you, I was/am a procrastinator. I felt the exact same way you did just a year ago. Wow. A year. Secretly, I still look at the for sale photos of that house - especially since it was model perfect for the realty ads. Then I look around at the hurricane here and sigh. I'm behind on making our house a home. It's easier to plan than to implement, it seems. :)

I am excited for you to move to less worry, to a yard where your girls will play, and to many playdates in a bigger home. Imagine homemade lemonade and mint juleps on a warm summer night. And I can picture little lantern lights somewhere. I haven't even seen the house, but I picture it for you. :)

Reply
Christina link
6/13/2011 02:55:36 pm

Thanks, Connie! This change has been hard on me, but it helps to know I'm not the only one who struggles with inanimate good-byes. Or failure to execute my plans, for that matter. It's funny that you mention lanterns-- Daniel must have told me 10 times that he intends to string them up in the backyard. You will have to come over for a cookout, and to teach me how to make mint juleps!

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    Christina | Virginia Beach
    Psuedo Yankee, city-loving former working mom of four finds herself home with the kids and transplanted to the somewhat Southern suburbs. Finding her feet while still attempting to harness the power of the passion of her youth for useful good.

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