I have moved around all my life. Starting aged five; I came to Australia on a ship-full of hopeful families from Europe and the United Kingdom. I was in the USA at 10, and again at 16. I returned at 26. London, Edinburgh, Brussels, Bruges; they have all been home at one time. Australia has been home again since 2004. So I am used to goodbyes, ‘though not good at them.
I hang onto small, insignificant items – throwing away anything causes me great anxiety and grief. I never throw away people. Those, I keep safely tucked within a deep pocket, and I take with me wherever I go.
This latest, and, perhaps, last trip, to Spain, necessitates a clearing of belongings; jettisoning 7 years history in this beloved cottage. The pile of discarded memories that the council picked up yesterday contained folding chairs we took to summer pool and beach trips, a fan heater that warmed my feet that last winter I worked from home, marking student assignments in my cold study. There was the “astro-turf” that I used to set the inflatable pool on each summer, and the dog’s little paddling shell. Garden canes, paper lanterns, off-cuts of the checked vinyl we laid in the bathroom, kitchen and sun-room the first week we moved into this house; all discarded. They might have come in handy for something one day, which will not happen.
I feel oddly cleansed and bereft at the same time. So many partings. So many new beginnings. So much to look back at and so much to look forward to.
It doesn’t matter where you move to. You will be my friend forever. A sister in arms on so many levels.
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I am so proud of you my dear friend I can’t wait to see you and Sarah in your new home.
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