Well, sometimes you just don't know how to feel.
I left my house in Hinton yesterday for the last time. I know that moving isn't such a big deal for lots of people, and there's a ton of folks who have done it several times in their life. But me, I've always had that house. In fact, the house was built in preparation for my birth... I've been living in it since day one. Even when my parents got divorced and my dad moved us in with his parents while the courts decided how to divy up the marriage, my mom was still living there. Then when the divorce became final, dad got the house and custody of Rob and I (among other things).
In the end, all I could do yesterday was give my dad a hug and walk out the door. Had I really put any thought into at that point, had I let myself really think about what leaving my house meant, I probably wouldn't have made it to my car without breaking down. Gosh, it's just a house! Why do I care so much? My family's intact, everybody's alive, and the new house is really great (though hardly an upgrade, in my own humble opinion). I shouldn't be moping about over something like this; Josh and Lorie will be happier, and dad and Jason will probably be just fine, and they're the only ones who will ever actually live in the house. Rob and I are in Texas for school and hardly make it up to Oklahoma more than two or three times a year, so we don't have any room to complain (not that Rob would; he was never one for emotional attachments).
Losing my train of thought, time to go elsewhere. Happy birthday, dad.
Listening to - Man of God by Audio Adrenaline
1 comment:
Even the people who move around feel pain from moving! It's silly really, getting so attached to the memories. I can see how you're able to relate to the people you are currently doing business with. I bet this moment really connects you with those big-wigs who love their building.
Every time we moved out of the house, I helped pack everything into boxes... my energy fueled by the excitement for a new life. You end up moving to that new place and finding out you really can't change at all. You're just you in a new environment, new surroundings, new rules, new everything... except for you. "You" change gradually, but a move... a move is so sudden. You leave parts of you behind in the old place where all those memories exist. Every time I travel to Ohio (not very often) or North Texas (very often), I drive by the houses I used to live in. The first few times, I bawled my eyes out. Now, I pass by wondering how the new residents are occupying the space. How are they using the area where I practiced trumpet? What are they doing in the kitchen where I celebrated five of my birthdays? Who are they allowing to swim in the pool where my friends and I spent countless hours splashing, racing, telling secrets...
Anyway, back to you. Funny you would jab at your brother like that :) And how matter of factly you talk about the divorce. So personal!
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