Days pass

Funny the difference from one week to another. Last week, packing and managing some big emotions, this week unpacking and managing different big emotions. No wonder I feel tired.

We wanted to move to this area and I’m glad it has worked out, one way or another. But it was really hard moving out of my parent’s house. We treated our stay a bit like a holiday, at least when we were both there which was less often than you might expect. I really like my parents. It was fun to share this part of our life with them. Of course, we will still share our lives but it is different when you live together. There is good and bad. Mostly there was good, taken with a glass of wine.

It’s interesting to see how, because we are on the move more often, I may be noticing the passing of time more. A few months there, three months here and half a year has gone by. Having a baby makes you notice that too – so much changes for them in the first year. Today I’m glad of that. Birch has said “uh uh uh” meaning “make it all better” for a lot of hours today. It felt like a long one. But now the sun is setting through the bathroom window and the scented candle is bringing the tranquility it advertises and the day is past.

Fly away

We moved out today. So many feelings. More than I expected. There have been so many good things in that house. The best thing was the next door neighbours. The worst thing was maybe the other neighbours. The ones who didn’t like the wood pile. Actually, the ones across the street were also really kind, and kindness really makes a difference.

When we moved, Red was 4, Myrtle was 15 months. Very small. They’ve done so much growing. We’ve done so much growing. Now we are 5. That shock made the floor in the kitchen shake. Or I think it did.

If anyone ever had any doubt about the quality of A.A.Milne’s writing they should read the last chapter of Winnie the Pooh. We can’t read that chapter. We listen to it and wail. There is no stopping those tears. Oh my. Just thinking about it, especially on the day we moved out, starts that off all over again. I know, time moves on. Children grow, spread their wings. It’s what we work for, what we are aiming for and we know it’s what we are watching as the days trickle by in monotony. But stopping to notice sears. Every time. Actually every time. Not literally every time. I hate what the word literally has become. That’s probably the subject of another blog post sometime. For now, time is passing. They are growing up. That’s a wonderful, lovely thing. It is extraordinarily tragic when it’s not the case. Still it hurts.

This is an exciting opportunity, a fantastic family adventure. It will mark our lives and we will mark time in relation to it. “Oh that was just before we started building the house”; “I remember that, it was when we were living at Nan and Dap’s”; “haha yeh, that was just before that big disaster”. Oh hang on, I don’t know about that yet. At least in my future imagination we are laughing at misfortune. Seems positive.

It feels really odd this evening. Home is someone else’s house. I will not say we are homeless. That is a very much more serious thing.

My parents sold the home I grew up in about 18 months ago. That felt odd. Then I realised home is where the people are, so their new house feels like home. Like their home. I expect soon it will feel like our home but we have been spending a lot of time thinking about what our home would be like and those thoughts have made me realise I have changed too. I spread my wings and flew away, but I didn’t really notice what was behind me, focusing only on what was ahead. That’s probably how it should be. Ben and I met when we were 16. Just coming up to 20 years ago. We met and I flew away. In his wedding speech my Dad sounded really pleased. Someone else to bear this burden. I didn’t really notice what now I understand lay behind the smile. It would have been a terrible, sad thing if I didn’t have wings in which to fly in whatever direction I chose. But A.A.Milne captured it again in the poem my Dad wrote out for me:

“Is this the little girl I carried,

Is this the little boy at play?

I don’t remember growing older.

When did they?”

I hope my children grow beautiful wings that will take them to wonderful places. I hope they come back sometimes. I hope it is not too soon. I know it will be too soon.