On December 26th the tree came down and the moving boxes came out. We purged, threw more away more than I could even begin to explain, sold a ton, and gave away a whole heck of a lot. I don't even think I'm the hoarding type, but my gosh, we accumulated a lot in the last 7 years of living there. I realized through the process that I'm not really attached to 'stuff' at all, and can easily say bye to things--while my husband is totally, completely the sentimental type. Not shocking for anyone who knows us. Needless to say, we had to compromise here and there. Did you know moving is very straining on a marriage? I'm sure you do. Needless to say, I'm certain we will power through. We actually still like each other a little, so it's all good ;) We still have to unpack in San Diego, though.
However, it's now January 18th and the home we made a family in is empty.
Everything we are taking to re-set up our lives and home across the country is shipping in two, tiny 8'x5'x7' boxes.
I get a lot of gasp, shock reactions with that picture. I know it's hard to imagine pairing down so much, but it was truly very freeing to simply to that degree. What we need is coming with us. What we don't is not. We are also totally buying a new couch in California.
I had posted some photos to instagram, you know, the sappy "my house is empty-we're moving" pics. They seem to really gut-punch us memory-keepers. Like the stuff somehow defines a home--and honestly, it kinda does to a point. The way we set up our sacred spaces becomes a part of us.
But this entire time I've held onto the fact that these people, all of them right up there? Yea, they are my home. When Declan and I were dating there was a song by a piano player we liked and it said "You are home to me"--and we'd write that on our cards to each other and all this sappy nonsense.
But you guys-I'm not sure I fully understood that until I had a family. It's the truth of how I feel at this very moment. I can't tell you how I'll feel in a month, heck, 6 months, etc. Right now, though? I feel like if I have my people, my little family, I am home. Holding onto that fact has kept me from feeling too much sadness about leaving our townhome, comfort of family close by, and starting completely over.
The house may be empty but the memories certainly aren't. So much life was lived in that place and besides all those steps, I'll mostly think back on that townhouse and smile.
So many people have asked, so what now?
The weird in-between time. Ah, yes. That's exactly where we are at.
Our stuff has left before us. Our place is empty. We are crashing at my childhood home, the dog included (yes, he's coming!) for the next 10 days. Our one-way flight to San Diego is January 29th and then the other part of this crazy adventure begins when we get on the West Coast.
I never expected to become an expert (ok, not quiiiite) in cross-country moves by the age of 29, but, it's amazing what can happen when you just put one foot in front of the other and say: We're terrified, but we're doing it anyway.
After this little in-between time, we are up, up and away. Keep us in your thoughts :)