So, for the first week after our decision to move out had been made, you woudya thunk someone was dying. I was so deflated, so depressed. I felt demoralized and lost. And angry. And horribly sad. And then I got my head outta my butt.
This is just another one of those crummy character-building experiences in life that you'd like to do without if you could, but it's happening so you just have to deal with it the best you can. It's not a real problem; it's a major inconvenience is all. For it to be considered a real problem, someone would have to have already gotten seriously hurt or we would have NO WHERE to live, or whatever.
We have options and lots. We're staying with the boy-O in his mum and step-dad's home, and our kitties are with us, and we're all having some fun while we're at it! How freakin' lucky are we?
Tackling the packing up of the 'old' house -all 2,600 square feet of it, plus 29 pieces of backyard furniture- has been totally daunting. Each time I go over to purge stuff and pack, I feel totally overwhelmed by how much stuff we have. But in the words of our other next-door neighbor and close friend, when the question "What good will come of this?" had been posed:
"I know exactly what it'll be! You're finally gonna have to deal with all your shit!"...followed by his evil snicker.And so it is: I have to deal with all my shit.
All for Salvation Army donation, I've thrown out a bazillion items thus far: 11 pairs of shoes, countless dresses, tons of sweaters, gobs of clothes in general, coats and jackets, bags and luggage, a metric ton of stuffed animals (mine and the girls!), toys galore, art supplies, office supplies, cookbooks and other books galore, foreign language materials, scrap fabrics, blankets and bedding items, lamps, flower pots, glass jars and vases, kitchen pans, table cloths... I've purged old keepsakes and college papers.
The latest purging pile I'd made beneath our carport, I am most proud of by far. It has items in it that I had held on to for years and years.., like 20 years? -items that have only seen the light of day when we are moving and I open the storage container they're stored in and go, yup, there that is still and close it back up again. Things that were somehow impossible to part with until now.
What has changed? I've gained a better understanding of how we give things meaning and how we maintain memories, and opportunity costs. I'll leave it there for now, or I'll cry.
Letting go can be an excruciating process, and can also be life altering, making room for bigger and better experiences to come!
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