We're In
Moving. Sucks. Rocks.
Granted, I should have played dutiful housewife and not taken a trip to Minnesota two weeks before the big move. Yes, I bring these things on myself. Yes, I should know better by now.
It’s no fun moving into a house with no air conditioning in August. Generous relatives with large vehicles are valuable beyond measure. One can live without a stove for two weeks.
I am now cured of every pack rat tendency I ever displayed. The new house is twice the size of the old one, but I have run out of room for sentiment. Boxes are leaving here for Goodwill just as quickly as they came in. I’ve been carrying too much of the past with me for far too long anyhow.
And just to prove I’m not totally heartless, I cried more last week than I have in months? Years? The last night in the old house, as I was turning the light out in Boy Star’s empty room for the last time, I was hit with a flood of memories just the clichéd way it happens in the movies. The first time I changed his diaper. The time he scarred his perfect little face falling on the vacuum. The afternoons he’d climb into his crib and throw all the stuffed animals out. Rocking him and reading to him and singing him lullabies. The days and nights that made me into a mother.
I learned how to give myself away in the old house. I hope I can get myself back.
Granted, I should have played dutiful housewife and not taken a trip to Minnesota two weeks before the big move. Yes, I bring these things on myself. Yes, I should know better by now.
It’s no fun moving into a house with no air conditioning in August. Generous relatives with large vehicles are valuable beyond measure. One can live without a stove for two weeks.
I am now cured of every pack rat tendency I ever displayed. The new house is twice the size of the old one, but I have run out of room for sentiment. Boxes are leaving here for Goodwill just as quickly as they came in. I’ve been carrying too much of the past with me for far too long anyhow.
And just to prove I’m not totally heartless, I cried more last week than I have in months? Years? The last night in the old house, as I was turning the light out in Boy Star’s empty room for the last time, I was hit with a flood of memories just the clichéd way it happens in the movies. The first time I changed his diaper. The time he scarred his perfect little face falling on the vacuum. The afternoons he’d climb into his crib and throw all the stuffed animals out. Rocking him and reading to him and singing him lullabies. The days and nights that made me into a mother.
I learned how to give myself away in the old house. I hope I can get myself back.
posted by Momma Star at 2:42 PM
5 Comments:
oh, mommastar, you made me cry. i hate leaving places. i'm not very good with goodbyes.
That is so heart wrenching! I hope the new home brings you lots fo new and fun memories!
Beautiful entry!
That was beautiful.
I feel that! I mean, we were at our last place for only 2 and a half years, but before I locked up the door for good, I went into her room for one last moment to see her scribbles on the wall and almost broke down right there. It was our first place up here.
It's never easy leaving those memories behind.
(((HUGS)))
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