It's that time of the season: of moving, of planning to move, of uprooting, and of breaking ground. My Army BFFs and I are in the mode of anticipating and waiting for orders. We are calling one another, daily even, to wonder about changes. Will we be stationed near to each other? Who will be going overseas? When is the move date?
But the anticipation and the questions are just the beginning. Soon after official word comes, then the whirlwind will slowly take over our home. The gradual decluttering will pick up speed; bags of donations will pile up in the storage area. The taking down of mementos, the re-filling of holes that where our photos have hung. Evidence of our existence in these four walls will slowly be withdrawn to make way for other families to take root.
And thus begins, what I call, "The Letting Go"
"Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar, and you'll live as you've never lived before.” - Erich Fromm
The Letting Go is what I call my journey the days before we uproot. I'm a drama queen at heart, and I named this process because I identified it early. As I go through my things, knowing that it will be packed up by movers, I understand and accept that they may be lost and damaged. When I start to inventory and take pictures of my coveted linens from Europe, or my Polish and French Pottery, our German Furniture, and oh heavens, my sewing machines and fabric, I speak to myself, and tell myself that it's just *stuff*.
The Letting Go of stuff is just practice, however, for this big picture of Letting Go of what we, for 3 years, have called home. These crayon marked walls have grown our family, sheltered us, and nurtured our relationships. The roads outside have led us to many wonderful moments, to our schools and playgrounds, restaurants and hangouts that bear our memories. To good friends. To lasting friends.
I have learned not to say goodbye, and I have always said that "I'm sure we'll see each other again". Nonetheless, The Letting Go is always a challenge. And this is the season.