We are all a little bit knackered after a long day packing, lifting - rinse and repeat. Moving isn't a lot of fun under normal circumstances, yet due to all of the other schedule changes in life - *we are under-prepared and over tired, but have to be out of here tomorrow.
This is how I found my daughter sleeping in her room this afternoon.
This will be our last night in this apartment and it is kind of bitter sweet, as while we are all excited about opening the next chapter and all it contains, this place holds memories too. When we bought it, we gutted the inside and renovated from scratch into a place that was our own. But I think the largest even is that our daughter was born while we lived here and it is here that we went through a thousand issues since that time.
From the first few weeks that she was held in intensive care, to the next year where she was not sleeping and I would spend hours every night walking her around the suburb so my wife could rest, who was still recovering from the delivery. And then, the morning we found our daughter having seizures and I held her while waiting for the ambulance, unable to recognize her contorted face.
Memories don't have to be good to be valuable.
It was during these times that I started writing and am yet to stop. I have sometimes wondered that if things had been smoother, if we hadn't have been crushed financially by medical costs, if things had been easier - would I have found this hobby, this love? I don't think so, at least at the time.
I have disliked so much of the last 4 years, but I wouldn't trade it in now as it has also brought so much value to my life, including an increase in gratitude for the small things life offers. One of those is the opportunity to express myself through writing, which might not seem like much for many, but I am far from a public person, far from a person who puts themselves on display - I have always been a bystander, an observer who never put all into the game.
The last few years, there has been very little I have held back and I am unsure how much energy I have in reserve these days, as it seems that I have put a lot out without inputting enough back in. I am tired a lot of the time and I think that my body is suffering. This year was meant to be the "recovery year" where I spent more time working for myself and I was just starting to get things aligned to get going, when the current situation buried many of the plans.
Well, they aren't buried, they will just have to change somewhat.
Plans change and life moves on, no matter whether things are good or bad - new memories will be made. While I hope that the future will be brighter than the past, I am wise enough to know there are no guarantees in this - and naive enough to still work toward it. In my opinion, taking care of oneself means finding something worth working for - while some seem to think it is avoiding work altogether.
I think that in the last years, I have built a pretty strong foundation within myself and I plan on leveraging it a little to build upon. One of those the components in the mix is being more risk taking and a little carefree with the future, rather than worried about the outcomes so much that I freeze in the moment. The future is important, but it will likely be a mess if the now isn't attended to.
But for now, I am going to take my aching old body to bed so that it can get up early and pack and lift some more. Tomorrow night it will lay its head on the same bed, but under a new roof and I wonder, will it feel like home?
[ an original ]