There with my love
So moving day is finally here.
The house looks all empty and forlorn. Or maybe I'm just feeling that way.
The movers are transporting 6 years of my life out in brown boxes marked 'fragile'. I'm standing outside watching them and remembering again that I'm still a foreigner in this country that is not yet my home. There's a cold wind which smells like rain, and I can feel the stray drops on my cheek. The moisture collects, trickles by the side of my mouth and I stick my tongue out to catch it. It tastes salty and I'm suddenly glad that MDH is inside the house supervising because it would make him sad to see my face all wet.
There's no permanance in where I live at the moment, and I would dearly love to be able to throw all my empty boxes away when I finally unpack the last one. Instead, they will lie flattened and tucked into a cupboard, quietly reminding me that I am still drifting with all my flotsam and jetsam.
Then MDH comes out of the house and puts his arms around me, and I am once again reminded that 'there with my love, I'm home'.
PS. Broadband won't be turned on at the new place for a couple of days at least, so it will be a while before I can get online again (the horror!). I really hope my new workplace will allow me to get on the internet. I'm convinced I will suffer withdrawal symptoms. I feel shaky already.
PPS.It's time to go.
The house looks all empty and forlorn. Or maybe I'm just feeling that way.
The movers are transporting 6 years of my life out in brown boxes marked 'fragile'. I'm standing outside watching them and remembering again that I'm still a foreigner in this country that is not yet my home. There's a cold wind which smells like rain, and I can feel the stray drops on my cheek. The moisture collects, trickles by the side of my mouth and I stick my tongue out to catch it. It tastes salty and I'm suddenly glad that MDH is inside the house supervising because it would make him sad to see my face all wet.
There's no permanance in where I live at the moment, and I would dearly love to be able to throw all my empty boxes away when I finally unpack the last one. Instead, they will lie flattened and tucked into a cupboard, quietly reminding me that I am still drifting with all my flotsam and jetsam.
Then MDH comes out of the house and puts his arms around me, and I am once again reminded that 'there with my love, I'm home'.
PS. Broadband won't be turned on at the new place for a couple of days at least, so it will be a while before I can get online again (the horror!). I really hope my new workplace will allow me to get on the internet. I'm convinced I will suffer withdrawal symptoms. I feel shaky already.
PPS.It's time to go.
Labels: Family
posted by tscd at 2:28 am
3 Comments:
Have you read Pico Iyer's The Global Soul? Sometimes I think drifting with the flotsam and jetsam is becoming a way of life for more and more people...
Home is with the people you love: there's no better way to define it. (just a thought sparked off by what Tym said)
tym: I've never read it, what's it about?
wahj: It's hard when all the people I love are spread out over the world.
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