Today is the last Friday we will sleep in our 1st home. Tomorrow the movers come. And then the next day happens...not here. I love change. I do. I love newness and the unknown and the excitement of "firsts"....but I get very attached. Even to things.
Once the divorce/annulment to my 1st husband was finalized, I moved out of the home we had bought together. Alone. But alone was good. That home had become a sanctuary for me during the months of our separation. I was living alone there, by choice. When the time came to sleep my last night and say goodbye, I was beside myself. Those walls! That doorknob! Those windows! That one step on the stairs! They had held me up. Kept me in. Protected me. I was leaving a space that knew what the last year had been for me...when most people had no idea..and still don't. I wanted to tear down the structure and pack it with me on my way to NYC. I wanted my old friends to come with.
I moved. And survived. And thrived even! In a lot of new places with lots of new things.. and people..to hold me up and keep me in.
And here I am again...kind of. I am moving out of a home I love but this time I am taking a human with me... AND that has made all the difference.
This house has seen me single and trying to decide if I could be brave enough for marriage again. It's seen me married and really wishing we had 2 bathrooms. It saw me with hands shaking holding a pregnancy test waiting for 2 lines or 1..alone in our one bathroom full of light.
This house has kind of seen a lot.
I had a friend remind me in an email this week that being sad to move on is a good thing. It means I was happy here.
Here are some of our "What about" memories we emailed to each other one day this week...
Grants:
What about all the notes around the house? What about our view of the studio's water tower in the sunset from our back porch? What about the yellow floor you painted? What about the kitchen faucet that runs for another 6 seconds after you turn it off and how you learn to play that dribble to get the right amount of water. What about the candle wax on the carpet from a romantic evening? What about the duct tape you used to build that fort? What about the constant sound of a lawn being mowed? What about your babies thinking we lived in some sort of toy house? What about fighting over how much curtain to leave agape so that enough air comes in? What about our lean-to mirrors? What about all the "organizing" I did for your wardrobe while you were out of town and then you couldn't ever find anything?
Mine:
What about standing on the front porch with our three imaginary kids waving goodbye as you leave us for work? What about staring at your shoes every time I am on the toilet? What about asking you to take down the sweater box 100 times a week?..and then wanting you to put it back up? What about covering up the hard drive lights every night before we sleep? What about the earthquakes and me thinking they're never a big deal? What about when Tiffany lived out of a suburban outside our bedroom window? What about when that one girl threw-up in our bathroom? What about the tiny plastic bottle of liquor we found on our front lawn? What about watching the lost season finale cuddled in our love nest on the red couch? What about finding out I was a mom in the bathroom and then staining your shirt with mascara from crying so hard? What about hanging our colorful lanterns in our blue alleyway? What about that day I tried to take the mail out of the mailbox and lifted the whole box off the house? What about the UPS guy?
We lay awake the night before and named about a 100 of these.
On to the last of packing. We have a new house to move in to!
PS. kind of love the iphone shot of me so hungry I was eating cinnamon toast and popcorn simultaneously. This was pre-pregnant mind you.