An empty, echoey apartment.

Two days left until we fly out to B.C. Last night, the movers finally came and took everything that we can't take on the plane. Now we're camping out and will be sleeping on an air mattress for...well, indefinitely. Spartan lifestyle. I like the idea of the minimalism of it, so here's hoping that won't get old too fast.

Life flies by way too quickly. I remember walking through the rooms of this apartment before we moved in. I so wanted the kids to be here and I didn't know how that was going to happen. I wanted to build a life with Warren and I was waiting for him to propose. Now, just over three years later, the kids have come and gone back to B.C., Warren and I have been engaged for over two years now, I've lost a job and gained an education, lost a loved one, learned and lived and bickered and laughed and cried, all within these walls and over these creaky floors.

We've put out furniture and odds and ends that we were getting rid of out on the street, and watched people come in and out like the tide to take what they found value in. I watched Leah's old bedframe being dismantled on the sidewalk and hoisted onto someone's roof rack. Our cast-offs are being scattered throughout the neighborhood.

We lived here. Soon we'll be gone. Our things are scattered throughout the neighborhood—but we won't be here. These rooms that we lived in will be inhabited by someone else who will do their own living and laughing and loving and crying. We were here. Now we're gone.

Such a huge transition at this time of year is especially poignant and somewhat bittersweet. I feel a sadness at saying goodbye to people we've known, if even only for a short time. There's an exhilarating uncertainty about what the future holds.

Just another reminder that this is the stuff of which our lives are made.

Now, to sweeping the bare floors and wiping the empty cupboards.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Coming Out As Fat

Tea-rotica and High Tea at the Empress Hotel

Granny's Vintage Teapot