Moving Day
March 3, 2009
This post is dedicated to anyone who has recently moved, anyone who is planning to move in the near future and anyone who has moved enough times to know what I’m talking about.
All your possessions now sit in non-descript boxes that are virtually indistinguishable from one another. Everything you love and own looks exactly the same. The house that holds your memories of the last couple of years now holds nothig but echoes of emptiness. The house contains no signs of inhabitance anymore. You imagine little faces peeping in to marvel at an unoccupied house. Where it once was cluttered it now breathes freeley the cold air wafting in through the open door. Friends, family and strangers traipse in and out carrying boxes, bookcases, couches and a piano to the U-Hauls, trucks and cars. And it doesn’t seem to matter that it is a hot summer day outside a coldness still pervades the house and your soul. The red on your cheeks from tears cried and tears held back looks as though it’ll never fade or be washed away. The empty house feels so pristine that you want to grab some of the dirt blowing around outside and throw it around. But at the same time you want it to stay clean forever. You think maybe someone else will find their happily-ever-after in this house, but you wonder why it couldn’t have been you. You look at the empty walls and remember each and every picture that hung on them. You check in the kitchen cupboards to make sure nothing important was forgotten and the memories of countless meals cooked, good times had and fights fought come to you. You walk through the rooms double-checking that it’s all empty and memories of sleepovers, imaginary games, video games, laughs and homework sessions dance before your eyes. You know there’s life where you are moving to but it won’t be the same. And all the positive little things you tell yourself won’t erase that fact. All you can do is pray that God will help you and ask Him the question you never get answered, why? You walk out to your car, arms and back sore from the hugs, cheeks chapped from tears cried, face muscles strained from putting on a brave face for loved ones and heart heavy from moving…again.
I hate moving.
With. A. Passion.
And I’ve had to do it twice in one month.
Grrrr!!!
Well “they” say moving is as traumatic as having a death in the family and I for one would have to agree. I’m right there with you Nor. I so despise moving, so very, very much.
G
I love the imagery at the beginning of this post. I’ve always like the way a house feels as your moving out of it, some much expectation. Looking forward to something new; all those people rushing about helping you on your way. It’s always a party of sorts because all your soon-to-be old friends and neighbors show up and there’s laughing and crying much back-slapping and hand-clasping. “Thanks for being our neighbor, for coming into our lives for however brief a time. Thanks for being there for me, for being a friend when a friend was needed, promise we’ll stay in touch (we never do). It’s all so… poetic.
Alright, well…….I’m not sure “party” would be the word I’d use, poetic works though, tragically poetic, yeah that works. Anyway glad you liked it.
G