I stare at each item in my home and wonder what kind of packing box it will require.
But I don’t really move. We have lived 25 years in the same house, yet I always think about moving. My fears fill my head at times. The expression, “some of the worst things in life never really happened” comes to mind.
In preparation for what I believe is inevitable, I think about moving almost every day. It’s sort of a sickness. Prepare for the worst so it won’t hurt so much. As I walk to my bathroom in the middle of the night, I admire the moon out my bathroom skylight, as if it’s my last time. I wonder what my future view will be when I take that nightly walk to the bathroom at 2:00 a.m.
My daily walks in the “hood” are more about my past, not my future. What would a future stay in the burbs look like? . I am not interested in playing with other folk’s children. I have nothing more to give back to this town, which gave me so much. “Put a fork in it, I’m done.”
And yet, it’s so easy to stay in the same place, the known, the comfortable, and the familiar. It’s what I longed for and obtained, and now I have to leave it. For something new. For a change. And why? So I won’t be so boring to myself. So I will force myself to experience a new life. I need to push myself out the door, just like the graceful way our children so comfortably eased out of the house into college life, and beyond. They moved on, and so must we.
Truth is I love my house, my town, the place we raised all three kids, the place where we were all so happy, met so many friends, and yet I feel and fear it’s time to move.
My time here is running out. I started the timer 25 years ago and have been thinking about moving since I set it, though more now that our kids have left the nest.
The next 25 years will be full of looking back I’m afraid, no matter how wonderful the times will be. Of course life with a partner you love more than anything, full of adventure and travel sounds great and will be remarkable, but bittersweet. The past was never bittersweet; it was just sweet, even if you didn’t recognize it as such every day. You held your family in your hands, like baby birds, before you let them fly away. Your lives were one, inextricably linked from daybreak to nightfall.
Now the world is suddenly wide open, though it feels more caged than ever before.
Fear creeps in as I recognize the one thing I tried hard to avoid cannot be avoided: loss and getting old.