Packing up a life

Our most chaotic periods can be catalysts for understanding...we should always remember that wholeness and brokenness can be held together in a sacred place." - Irwin Kula

I packed only 5 small boxes last week. It was all I had the heart for. I wrote out my last mortgage payment check last Tuesday. Check 3502 for $1094.35. The numbers seem so important.

Yesterday I came home from a special little girl's dance recital and looked around. I better get a move on if I'm moving an entire house in 11 days. I wanted to be set free. Why is it so hard?

I will miss the smell of woodsmoke and all the bonfires the neighbors had, but we never did.

I will miss the clicking of Emma's nails and the jingling of her tags on our midnight walks.

I will miss the fact that this clicking and jingling is the only sound to compliment the croaks and chirps.

I will miss my big deck and all the afternoons in the sun for tanning, pedicures, friendship, laughs, and lots of margaritas.

I will miss being able to paint any color or drill any hole I want. I will miss the siding, shingles, tile, carpet, cabinet handles, and appliances I picked myself.

I will miss playing my piano and singing - any song, any volume, any time.

I will miss my own big, bare, private basement to workout in.

I won't miss snowblowers, lawnmowing, and broken plumbing, but I might even miss the neighbors partying at 1:30 in the morning. I could use and miss the $20,000 we invested in this home and lost.

I will miss the sound of the wind blowing through my open bedroom window, out into the hallway, and back out the patio door. It sounded so hollow last night. All of me feels hollow.

I will miss the dream I had of creating a family here.