The term implies that there is a definite end point...but I'm not entirely sure this is true.
This Sunday, we will shove all of our earthly possessions into a crammed Uhaul and move to a new home, a whopping 1.6 miles away.
So I've been packing.
And packing.
And packing some more.
And it has been weird. And emotional. And quiet.
A lot has changed under the roof of this house.
And all of a sudden, amidst boxes, dust bunnies, and the contents of my closet, I found myself sitting on my bedroom floor, surrounded by my former life.
Running tights,
horseback riding helmets,
teacher clothes,
two-piece swimsuits,
choir uniforms,
17 t-shirts from Wolftrap Elementary School,
awards, certificates, ribbons,
and my expired passport.
And as I sat there, taking it all in, I was really rather dumbfounded by the magnitude of it all.
Odd, because those items are from my life.
But maybe this was the first time that I saw it all together.
Maybe this was the first time that I felt the loss of what was in one fell swoop.
And I sat there, quietly.
What do you do with boxes upon boxes of a life you don't know if you will ever live again? Do you give them all away, or do you hold on and continually relive the memories? As we heal, do we truly leave all wounds behind? Or do we continue to carry them through life?
So many questions.
These questions, and others, have stayed on the forefront of my mind for the last 2 weeks.
I've pondered.
And noodled.
And daydreamed, as I do.
The truth is, I don't have the answers now.
That's ok. I don't need them.
For where would we be, without unanswered questions? How would we try new things and forge new paths?
More questions.
Someday soon I'll look back at that moment with gratitude. I'll look back and smile, knowing that the stories in my closet encouraged me to grow.
To find new passions.
To dive headfirst into my new career.
To make new memories.
Maybe I already am.
And as I smush our belongings into the truck this weekend, I'll be lugging along the cherished stories in my closet. I'll remember what was and look forward to what is to come.
I'll take a deep breath, and continue to heal.
Lydia,
ReplyDeleteGood luck with the move. It is never fun. You would not be who you are today without the past! Keeping my fingers crossed for Yolanda to respond.In the meantime, I am sending you a big hug and am so grateful to have you in my life!
Xoxo
Morgan
Hi Lydia!
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry to hear that you are having a hard time!!! We think of you often in the Hurley home. I stumbled on your blog after Jane saw a beautiful picture of you on Pintrest posted by Emma Oettl. Anyhow, after reading your blog I understand that you have Lyme and it's wonderful co-infections. I was diagnosed a year ago this past summer with chronic Lyme after being told for 9 years that I had fibromyalgia and that I should "see someone" who could help me with my hypochondria. I've been on - still am on - a few of the Nutramedix supplements and have taken countless antibiotics that have made me think there was absolutely no way I was going to live through the night. I'm so sorry. I want you to know: you aren't alone. It's so hard for people to truly understand and although I've been told it's very much like having cancer, I'm not sure other people really understand. Although, like you, I have an awesome, supportive family. There was an awesome video produced by Olympic skier Angeli Vanlannen (sp?) called Lyme Light. It's wonderful.
Anyhow, if you ever want to talk, or commiserate, just let me know! My email is hurleyde@mac.com. Either way, I'll be thinking of you sending happy, positive thoughts your way!!!!
Much love and many hugs to you,
Elizabeth Hurley
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