On Monday we finished dinner early. As I was taking away the dishes, LP said, very decidedly and excitedly: "I have an idea!" And we expected it to be something fun and silly that we would (regretably) have to say no to this being a weeknight, like "let's build the biggest Hot Wheels track ever!" or "let's make popcorn and place all the sofa cushions on the floor and watch a movie on them!"
But instead, he said: "Let's start packing some boxes!"
We had meant to for a while. The house has been officially sold for over a month. We gave ourselves a much deserved break after four and a half months of non-stop showings, but now it was becoming slacking. We had boxes neatly folded in the basement, and plastics bins, and tape, and markers, all ready. It was nagging me. But it also felt totally overwhelming.
"That's a great idea!", I said.
So we went downstairs, and soon a quite cheerful, slightly comical frenzy was going on. M put on some music.
Then the moment appeared like a movie in slow motion.
And suddenly it hit me. A few tears burned my eyes fleetingly.
We were doing this. We were this family packing away their house, this house where we started as a twosome, then over the years brought two tiny infants that were now growing up. One who was putting his things in a box, and the other one who was doing her best to annoy and prevent him from doing so.
We were beginning our motion, brought farther by life, by the promise of spring we've been holding on to for seven months, since this year it was going to come with a new house.
It was happening. And it was definitely very sweet, but also just a little bitter.
After less than an hour we had assembled a dozen or so boxes of books and toys in the middle of the space. And left terrible chaos. The day that signaled "the end of life as we'd known it" in our house had arrived. The chaos would only ever-increase in the next few weeks, culminate in a move, then decrease as we settle somewhere else.
In that somewhere, it will be spring.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Somewhere it's always spring
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4 comment(s):
Awww, another heart-warming beaut of a post.
It's always spring in LP's heart:).
Yes, this definitely gave me the warm-fuzzies with a dash of bitter. It's where you started your family, so of course there's a little sting. But! LP getting excited for the move? That is a good sign, no?
Good luck with the packing - I think it's my most hated aspect of moving. (Yes, I'd rather lift & carry & pack boxes in Texas's 115F summer heat than actually pack things away, even if it means I'm in the air con.)
I also find the process of packing and moving to be so hard because the "home base" necessarily becomes so chaotic during the transition time. Hang in there...spring is coming soon and you will soon be in your new home that you have dreamed of.
And maybe you can get a small painting of your first house made? (Like Young House Love did for one of their parents' homes when the parents moved?) Or a nice, artsy frame-worthy photo to go in a special place in the new home? Something that could mark the meaningful years in this first family home, and help carry it over into the new home, to have something concrete to intentionally try to create a sense of connectedness in the journey?
Anyhow, happy festival des boîtes. :)
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