Moving On
It is sometimes only in letting go that we are able to see what we loved.
K begins the moving process today. Over the last year we have called an apartment in the heart of West Hollywood home. It's a furnished one bedroom the size of a shoebox and when we found it we thought we would stay for several months, six max. In fact when we found it there was no "we" only he and me scouring the ads on craigslist for a suitable home for him and his babes in the wake of so much change.
He made me a key and always went out of his way to call it our house. It became the joke between us that my apartment was our vacation home in the Valley... that we rarely vacationed at. And so with the passing of time I came to see that little place as my home too.
As winter turned to spring K was ready to look for a house, a permanent spot for his family- a place his babes would have their own bedrooms, a backyard and someday a dog. As we began the exciting and exhausting journey of home finding it seemed all of the things we hated about our little apartment started shining even brighter. The closets were tiny and quite literally busting at the seams with the wardrobes of four. And the neighbors below, although nice, were bizarre with their frequent late night fights and after midnight vacuuming routine. The shower leaked, the kids had to share a pullout bed, there was one bathroom, pets weren't allowed and the TIVO worked inconsistently.
Once we found a house the sixty day escrow felt infinite. I'd reach to open the closet door and it would jam, holding my clothes hostage inside. "Aaargh! I can't wait to be out of here!" I'd yell with exasperation as K came to my rescue. It seemed all that we hated about our abode grew increasingly irritating as the days to our exodus drew nearer.
And then something changed.
I started noticing the things I would miss about this place, what would be lost in the new space we call home. Every night I sit on the couch reading surrounded by windows awaiting K's arrival from work. I know the sound of his tires on the driveway and my heart beats a bit faster when I hear that he's home. I won't have that any more. Every room in the house is five steps away from the last and although the closeness of it all sounds suffocating it was actually the opposite. It felt full of life and happiness having all of us- friends, family- together. I will miss the neighborhood and walking to the market. Most of all I will always hold a special place in my heart for all of the joy we shared between those walls.
Leaving this apartment means a chapter completed in what I hope is the long, joyful story of our life. I hope our new home is as full of love as this one was.
K begins the moving process today. Over the last year we have called an apartment in the heart of West Hollywood home. It's a furnished one bedroom the size of a shoebox and when we found it we thought we would stay for several months, six max. In fact when we found it there was no "we" only he and me scouring the ads on craigslist for a suitable home for him and his babes in the wake of so much change.
He made me a key and always went out of his way to call it our house. It became the joke between us that my apartment was our vacation home in the Valley... that we rarely vacationed at. And so with the passing of time I came to see that little place as my home too.
As winter turned to spring K was ready to look for a house, a permanent spot for his family- a place his babes would have their own bedrooms, a backyard and someday a dog. As we began the exciting and exhausting journey of home finding it seemed all of the things we hated about our little apartment started shining even brighter. The closets were tiny and quite literally busting at the seams with the wardrobes of four. And the neighbors below, although nice, were bizarre with their frequent late night fights and after midnight vacuuming routine. The shower leaked, the kids had to share a pullout bed, there was one bathroom, pets weren't allowed and the TIVO worked inconsistently.
Once we found a house the sixty day escrow felt infinite. I'd reach to open the closet door and it would jam, holding my clothes hostage inside. "Aaargh! I can't wait to be out of here!" I'd yell with exasperation as K came to my rescue. It seemed all that we hated about our abode grew increasingly irritating as the days to our exodus drew nearer.
And then something changed.
I started noticing the things I would miss about this place, what would be lost in the new space we call home. Every night I sit on the couch reading surrounded by windows awaiting K's arrival from work. I know the sound of his tires on the driveway and my heart beats a bit faster when I hear that he's home. I won't have that any more. Every room in the house is five steps away from the last and although the closeness of it all sounds suffocating it was actually the opposite. It felt full of life and happiness having all of us- friends, family- together. I will miss the neighborhood and walking to the market. Most of all I will always hold a special place in my heart for all of the joy we shared between those walls.
Leaving this apartment means a chapter completed in what I hope is the long, joyful story of our life. I hope our new home is as full of love as this one was.
It will be better! Wish I was coming to help you move!
ReplyDeleteGood luck with the move. I am sure you will quickly find that it is the people that surround you that make a home.
ReplyDeleteThis is nice. Every home has its quirks that annoy the shit out of you when you're there. Then you move and only then can you appreciate them. Although I almost guarantee you I'll never miss a master bathroom with a tiny vanity and sink combo for two adults.
ReplyDelete