Moving On
It is such a
daunting and stressful task, to sort through every little thing you own, to
decide if you are going to keep it, or should donate it to charity, or throw it
away. You might be asking yourself, “Why would any sane person do such a
thing?” For one simple reason- I am moving.
I have lived in my
home for fourteen years now. I still love my home, but there are things I want
in a new home that I do not currently have. For example, my complex has curbside
parking. A home with a garage would be lovely. Every winter when digging my car
out from an eight inch (or more) snowfall, I bemoan my fate and dream of having
a house with a garage.
My realtor came to
inspect my home, and found it to be in wonderful shape. He gave me a great
piece of advice, which
I would like to pass along now:
Consider donating
things you do not want to move to charity. For those items you want to keep,
box up the things you do not use every day. That way, when you are ready to
move, you will be that much further ahead. This method also ensures that you will
only have to sort through everything you own once.
.
It has been a
challenge to be sure, to keep the boxes separated, “keep” and “donate”, to not
feel daunted by the task at hand, going through every little thing I own, to
not get lost in minutiae, to not get buried in boxes.
As I began to box
everything up in my house, I was flooded with memories. I could look at an item
and remember who gave me the item, the occasion, whether it was a Christmas
gift, a birthday present, if I bought it myself, etc. Some items were given to
me by friends who have passed. Those will be the hardest items to not keep.
While I have these
memories attached to specific things, I am also reminded of events that
happened in my home. Moving into the home, the furniture I had, the behavior of
my cat at the time, Calypso, upon moving into a new place with new smells, and
views of the geese in the nearby pond. I remember parties I had in
the home, Christmases, birthdays, and more. I think of my friendships in this
home, those that I still have, and those I have lost.
The home holds a special
pace in my heart. I fell in love while living in this house. I lost my cat
Calypso while in this house. I began my writing career in this house. I became
a published author in this house. There are many wonderful memories.
I find that, at
times, I am inundated with memories. As I sort through all of my material
belongings, I constantly
remind myself that I do not keep a specific item to keep a memory. I do not
know what size a home I am moving to, so I cannot keep everything I currently
own. I would rather have the memory than the tangible item. I will keep my
memories with me always, no matter where my home is.
I looked up the
definition of the word “home.” The definition listed was “where a person
resides.” To me, home is a feeling, a feeling of being at peace in my dwelling,
not a specific location. Anyone can move into a house; it takes passion and love
and peace to make a house a home. Perhaps another definition of the word “home”
could be a collection of memories. Good and bad, memories are what fill
our hearts as we move on to the next home.
While I have loved
the years in my home, and all the memories I have made there, I am ready for
something new.
I continue to dream of my new home. I know the perfect place for
me is on the horizon, just as my home will be the perfect place for its next
owner. The future is unknown. Yet, it is rich with possibilities. My cats
Jazz and Blues will be with me on my journey, as I move on.
Yes, that is it. I
do not see it as moving out. I see it as moving on.
© Esperanza Habla All Rights Reserved
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