Thursday, January 21, 2016

Moving Day



This was written, June 2014 and reflects my thoughts on moving day.

Moving Day

Moving Day … the phrase conjures up a plethora of emotions… excitement … happiness … a bit of melancholy and yes overt sadness.  I experienced my first moving day when I was 18 months old; it really wasn’t all that traumatic. I wasn’t that shaken by it. All that mattered is that Mommy and Daddy were going as well. We were moving from a tiny house at the end of a boulevard to a more developing neighborhood with children and the neighborhood school – standard of the late 1950’s and early 1960’s.  We remained in that house until issues with my health necessitated another move; so moving day came at the end of my first grade year. The plan was to sell and build. We sold, but then needed a place to live until our house was complete. In the ensuing months we moved traveling light – we lived in a basement apartment, in a house vacated by friends who were passing the summer in Canada, and ultimately with my maternal grandparents.  According to my paternal grandmother this move took its toll on my six year old emotions despite the fact the fact I was with mommy and daddy every step of the way. She reports that on one overnight visit with her, I drew a picture of a bluebird singing “Sweet Cathy Wants a Home.”  We were nicely settled in our home, but five years later in the providence of God it was time for another move.  I was not happy even though I would have my parents, but I was resistant to the change and upheaval in my life that I knew would result.  With this moving day I began to wall my heart closed.  When we finally got into the house, we passed a miserable winter. My mom began to show signs of her congenital heart disease.  My dad was miserable and somewhat fearful not only of her heath, but also of his own.  I had bought into lies about my relationship with God and was slowly imploding spiritually and emotionally. We blamed the house – erroneous thinking, but hurting people frequently need a scapegoat.  In all of the pain, God had a plan.  Our church had just taken on a second staff member and wanted a place for him and his family. Our property backed up to the church property. Would we consider selling our house and land to the church? We discussed it as a family – another moving day was in our future.  We lived in a trailer while we renovated a barn. That was home for the next for the next 30 years.  For my mom it was a few less – for she stepped straight into Heaven from her bedroom – now that was some moving day.  Two years  after her homegoing we sold our house to the church with an ever expanding staff. Packing up the memories … loading our stuff. Coming to a condo. Then Dad had his moving day from palliative care and ICU – I know he was glad to leave that baggage behind.  Now I’ve downsized again. Perhaps today was one of the most painful of all.  I’m letting go of stuff that has a lifetime of memories attached to it. I don’t have Mommy and Daddy to go through this with me, but I have someone better. Someone eternal. Anything I’ve left or lost in previous moves is transient – temporal and earthbound. My heart and eyes must be set on that ultimate move --- with no strings keeping me here.
#Roadofremenicing  #Memories 

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