So, you know when you break up with someone after a really long relationship, and you”ll go seemingly forever without seeing or speaking to them?
Going out on a limb.
moving
5 months of hellos & goodbyes.
I know some of you are feeling abandoned, and for this I apologize. But moving is neither pretty nor particularly interesting. It’s much closer to mourning, in fact, for those undertaking it. Over the course of the past 5 months, I have weeded through the sum total of my possessions, twice. Assessing, analyzing, weighing the merits of each physical fragment of my existence. And with each object – whatever it is – deciding whether it will have a place in my new life. Much of the accumulation has been easy to part with, because it never meant much to me. But the most difficult parting has been with the place itself.
We left Philly on March 21st; my older daughter’s ninth birthday. We said goodbye to our home and everything we’d ever known, the comfort and support of community, and the love of family and friends. We moved to Portland looking for a better life, seeking a place where our children could grow without fear. It has been both easy and hard. The first month was exhilarating, but it was also the loneliest I’ve ever known. Now – 5 months later, I find myself moving with dexterity through once unfamiliar streets, the longing that gripped me months ago blurred to an often distant haze. But sometimes, it just can’t be helped.
Last month we sold our house in Philadelphia. It’s been a very mixed bag of emotions for us all, but especially for me. I get really attached to places. Almost as much as if they were people. I recall times as a child, when we would travel, feeling an almost palpable sense of sadness after leaving not just loved ones – but locations. I still feel that same acute sorrow when we leave our dear friends cabin in Vermont. So you can imagine how difficult it was for me, having to say goodbye forever to our first home. We went back to Philly over the 4th of July weekend, to pack up everything we’d left behind; all the bits that were too big or too trivial to make the initial trek north. We spent the days hauling ASS. And the nights I spent sobbing. While fireworks flashed in the distance, my husband and I toasted our last Independence Day the way we had the previous 7. On the roof of our home. Now a lovely couple are hanging their clothes in what used to be our closets, and showering in what used to be our bathroom, perhaps even cleaning the mildew off the tile I never wanted to clean. And I wish them all the best. But now that they’re on the mortgage, it is time to move on – literally.
In three days, we move into our new house. OUR NEW HOME!!!! And I cannot even begin to tell you all about it. How elated we all are!! To have found something so lovely, so unique, so historic, to call home – is truly beyond description. This new home, this piece of – America. Finally, to plant our roots in the soil, to nourish, to grow and thrive in our new environment, perhaps even to seed…. TO BE HOME. Those three words bring tears to my eyes. So long awaited, so tenderly missed. I love Portland. I love Maine. As much as any place I have ever known. The beauty, the salty kiss of the ocean, the feeling I get in my heart each time I gaze around.. the feeling of finally being Home.
SO???
— On Wed, 4/8/09, <curlywurlygurly@verizon.net> wrote:
So, how goes your new life in Maine? How's john's job? The girls are making friends and enjoying school?? you've unpacked all the boxes and set up house? Let me know. xoxo
I know this isn’t QUITE what you were expecting Curls, but as I’ve already discussed feet, underwear, and copulating animals crackers here.. why not get a little personal? So here goes.
19 days in Portland. and we are settling in well. The boxes are all unpacked (save for those hidden beneath our beds and they DO NOT COUNT), and the apartment is in order. I have to say, coming from a 3 story house I’d never have imagined I’d like any apartment, but I truly love this place. So sun filled and spacious; my plants have never known such bliss. John seems to be enjoying his new job, which is much the same as his old job @ PENN, but w/ more responsibility. The girls are loving their new school. Maddie had her first assembly today – she got to do an African dance w/ her classmates and play a Nigerian rhythm on the drum.
Both she and Georgia have made wonderful friends quickly. The day after we moved in, they were already going to the park w/ neighbors, and Madison had her first play date by the end of the week. Georgia – that crazy 5 year old – already has her first real crush (CANNOT NAME NAMES) and a birthday party to go to next week. Me? I’m having a blast exploring Portland, taking photos and OF COURSE Blahhhhhging once more. Oh, and I’ve gotten a job. YES I KNOW I HAVEN’T EVEN BEEN HERE 3 WEEKS. But Kismet is Kismet.
I’m finding Portland is small. In a good way. Coming to a brand new city, one w/ roughly the same population as the “neighborhood” I used to reside in, is reassuring. I’m walking everywhere and not getting lost. I say hi to people I meet and almost everyone is friendly. Parents from school have gone out of their way to approach me, introduce themselves and welcome our family. It’s been lovely.
And transitioning back to apartment living after 8 years away has gone fairly well. Except that our refrigerator clucks. LIKE A CHICKEN. At random intervals, for no apparent reason, the fridge begins to BOCK – b-B-BB-BOCK. This goes on for several seconds at a time, then stops. As perplexing, is the unknown tenant who lives above us. I have met the 2 college guys who live downstairs. I have met one of the tenants above. But the other tenant on the third floor remains a complete MYSTERY. I’ve met his, or her, girlfriend, who is very nice by the way. But after 19 days in this building, I’ve yet to meet him/her. His/her name is a very unusual one, one which could go either way (boy or girl). And although we hear ALL KINDS of noises from above – I’ve yet to establish gender. I do not want to be so rude as to ask. IS YOUR ROOMMATE A BOY OR A GIRL>>>??? That just sounds weird. [Though between you & me, I am GUESSING it’s a GIRL.] It’s not like I want to force myself on this person and become his or her best friend. I’d just like to put a face to the noises. name. I’ve come home a couple times and/or been leaving, and have heard the door opening upstairs and someone coming out. But they’ve always waited silently for me to enter my apt or depart the premises before coming downstairs. I am seriously considering some sort of SURPRISE! Say, waiting until he/she THINKS I’ve gone in, but really I am standing outside the door w/ a crazy grin.
What do you think?