I couldn’t concentrate anymore. The pounding in my head was what was going on as I tried to worked. I made it for 4 hours at one job and 3 for the other. The pain was too much to bear. “You do look awful” said the well-meaning senior interviewer (oops that should be in caps, they are tres important you know) and said to go home and don’t forget to get a doctor’s note for tonight. Doctors note? It was 9:30. Something to worry about tomorrow.
I walked into the house where my daughter and I have been staying since September. This is also the house I grew up in. Every corner of every room screamed memories at me. Good, wonderful, horrible and just bad.
Instead of lying down I decided to empty the dishwasher. I realized I had to empty the dishes directly into a box. I stopped in the middle of this simple chore, held my head in my hands and wept. Like a baby.
We are moving. We are packing and we’re moving from the home that sheltered me all of my life. If I wasn’t living in it, my parents were and they were always there to make things better. They were my rock. They kept it a home. In different ways they’re both gone now; my Mom died in 2007 and my Dad has vascular dementia so where he is on earth never seems to be the same as where I am.
I wandered throughout the rooms where there was a box half-filled with possessions. Each room had a significant meaning for me. I could smell the flavour that made up this place for over 55 years. Many doors I had closed were all standing open and naked for me to relive and re-conquer. The doors I kept open were there too. Those doors feel like an open window on a breezy day filled with the scents of simple times, happy places and bold adventures. I like those the best. Those doors will stay open and with me for always. The other doors I know will be closed eventually and then re-opened when that lesson must be learned again. More often than I want but valuable just the same.
My fella called me. I feel better. He sweet-talked me as only he can do. He made me laugh about me. I laughed about him too. I just laughed. It felt wonderful. The sound echoed throughout my home.
What could have happened to make me so melancholy about leaving? Losing my childhood home forever would do it for sure but that doesn’t seem like the whole story. Feelings of being overwhelmed is just not a good fit for me.
I shall look forward towards my new life with my Carly, open the boxes of our new life together and fill each room of our apartment with new memories, scents and adventures. It will be home.
That’s a very good way to feel overwhelmed. I’m going to work on that.
Day and night.