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.

Monsters seem more real when you’re alone.

We exchanged on our old house. Next we move. No turning back. We are yet to complete on the purchase of the land; some of the legal issues involve a committee of trustees which is not something that is likely to be super speedy and efficient. Just a bit more waiting. That’s ok, waiting is good practice.

We also need to do a bit more thinking. It felt like we were gaining momentum. There’s a guy in the self build world who we were talking to, thinking we would work together, getting excited. It’s really sad. He and his family experienced a tradegy earlier this year. It takes a certain amount of time to heal and grieve and there just hasn’t been enough of that yet. My heart is hurting for them. I’m sad for us too.

What we want to do is to build a home that reflects us, and also one that will help us tread gently on the earth which we have been given to take care of. I think when it describes in Genesis the way God gave the man the garden to tend and keep it is literally true that he should care for the ground that he was given. I also think that is a metaphor for the way in which the man was to care for and look after his wife. Ben has followed this pattern with love, grace and beauty. Never more so than since we discovered my pregnancy last year. His burden has been heavy but he has cared for us and loved us gently and completely. A house he builds will embody that spirit. It is where I want to be. It will also care for the earth better than our current home. I think it is true to say that as humans we have not done a good job of caring for the earth. It can seem like there’s nothing we can do. We want to do what we can and to utilise the wealth of alternative techniques and knowledge around the construction of our home. It was exciting to find someone who wanted to work with us who felt the same way, saw our vision through the same lenses we look through. It feels sad that we won’t be able to take that journey as closely as we thought. I also understand and respect his decision. Family first. Always. Just like Ben.

Red was just explaining to me how he doesn’t like to go downstairs by himself. Somehow when you’re alone monsters seem a bit more real. I see monsters quite often, but Ben is great at seeing them a different way. Just another puzzle, use your brain and you’ll find a way. We will find the way.