I pack boxes and fill garbage bags… mostly I fill garbage bags, and I think about what this small 30 block change in address really means to me. With every book that I lovingly pack into every box, with every dish I wrap in the newspapers I have never bothered to read, but thankfully hadn’t cancelled yet, I slowly sever ties to this house.
It was the first home I owned, and I was so proud when I was young and married and we signed those documents. To me it signified reaching adulthood in a way that even marriage and motherhood had not. We had arrived!
When the fights became more numerous, and crying myself to sleep at night became the norm, I clung to my home, to making it warm, inviting, lovely, hopeful. I dressed children for school, took part in home preschool groups, baked bread, mended clothes, patched the tears in a heart that kept being wounded by broken promises and love departing.
When my other left, the nightly tears intensified, then slowly ebbed, until life had found a new path, until I found my “normal” once again. Children to school, mommy to work, daycare, dinner, homework, bed. Our pattern was gentle, sweet, poor, but happy.
But, this house; this home was not to be mine forever. Now I have removed the pictures from the walls, the books from the shelves, and the dishes from the cupboards. Thrift has been replaced by poverty, dreams have been replaced by prayers and sleepless nights. Yet, still there is such hopefulness in moving to a new space, one uncluttered by the sad memories of this house, but with room for the so-many beautiful ones to go with us.
I pray that I can take with me those most important dreams, that a tiny 2-bedroom apartment will somehow make room for the beginning of lasting love, and the endurance of a happy family. I will be making beds and baking bread in a new home soon, one far more humble than those I have known before. We will make the most of it, my little family and I. We are busy, preparing for the future we dream of. One in which our family welcomes additions, overcomes hardship, and thrives beyond anything we have dared to hope for in recent years. It has been quoted so many times, that love conquers all. Truly, it is life that conquers all. Until the doorway of death ushers me to the next stage of existence, I know I will still wake on the morrow with work to do, people to love, and a future to dream.
And even then, it’s just another move; forward, onward, ever changing, never finished. And isn’t that just the story of my life…