When Wonder Boy was little we would always describe the time needed to wait for a vacation, or a day at Disneyland…anything special, in “so many sleeps”. I know other parents who have done that too; I think its easier to grasp for a kid than the idea of a full day. It’s very specific. You go to bed, one down. The next night, another down.
Tonite I remembered that as I realized I only have 3 more sleeps in the house. In my home, because I can try and detach by calling it THE HOUSE, but that’s a game I have been playing for months now, helping me to hold this whole moving process at arms length. Right now, three more sleeps away? It’s less than arms length. It’s so close I can feel it, smell it. Can picture myself guiding the movers. Picture myself locking the door. It feels and smells like fear. It feels and smells like the tears that keep welling up and that I have been holding back from indulging in. I used to never cry because i thought once I started I would never stop. I know now that is the truth. I may not be sobbing every second, but there is always a tear, at the ready. It takes very little to make me cry , and that started when Tom died. And now this move, and the planning and execution of the whole thing; I have welled up at least once every single day. Everything is raw, all my feelings more acute.
I find it really interesting that I did a whole30 during this time, that I haven’t had a drink, that I tried to do a blog a day (and only missed 2 I think). All that discipline! All those NO’s…..no sugar, no alcohol, no to certain foods, no to going to bed until you have posted. Strong discipline in the midst of chaos. It’s something I think I chose to try and keep those feelings at bay, to focus on other things. I know the alcohol won’t work, that’s a no-brainer. But I deprived myself of certain foods that I like too. Forced myself to write every day, no matter what nonsense came out. I gotta say I am not really going anyplace specific with this other than noting it….I’ll think about it later, the why’s. I will say that, while the feelings were there that there was not a lot of panic and anxiety, which is a natural fall back for me. That was a good thing.
Truth be told the process, as emotionally hard as it has been, has been amazingly easy. I’ve alluded to that here…it really all has fallen into place exactly as it should, and all in the best way. My son moved out at the perfect time. There will be a beautiful family living in my home. I found a great apartment to move to and, while I have to wait a couple of weeks for it, my friend’s husband is out of town and I can stay with her during the interim.
Spending the days packing and tossing has done things to me though, a lot of which I don’t understand…call this my quizzical post. I’m not sure when I will fully understand it all, or even if. The process really started in January and here it is August and it is finishing. I am canceling gardeners and pool guys, DWP and Gas Co., internet and Direct T.V. The house is basically empty but for the boxes and the furniture that has to be moved. I walk through the house and open closets and cupboards and cannot believe that there is nothing there.
The house reminds me of when we moved in. Empty but for the boxes, rife with potential.
It still feels rife with potential, just not for me.
I guess my new life is rife with potential, what will be. I have no expectations, you know? I like not having any. I will just go with the flow and see how the rest of this plays out.
My home is no longer my home No! YES it is!
It is for three more sleeps.