A few weeks ago my husband and I were able to go out on a lunch date. We took the bus. Part of that bus route was the same as a bus route I took when we lived over there. An odd feeling set in as I thought about those times when I took that other bus. Nostalgia? No ways. I was not happy living over there, but there are always good memories to remember in all places we have lived.
When we lived over there, my fondest memories were the spring of the second year after we moved in. I was in my second trimester of pregnancy and my toddler was not yet two years old. Living on the second floor proved a bit difficult with the stairs and my ever growing belly but I loved taking my toddler to the nearby park and going on walks. Once a week we would take the bus to the mall, a five minute ride, straight into the Works store where he could choose a book or small toy or treat and we’d hop back on the next bus home. Like a typical boy my toddler didn’t like the mall too much and would throw a fit if we were there too long. Too long being more than 30 minutes! After we stepped off the bus at our bus stop we would go on a walk and then home. Have lunch and then we’d both have a nap next to each other. When we woke we’d have chocolate milk. I’d cuddle him next to my big belly and feel the joy every woman feels when she sees her family growing. Those were sweet moments. There is something unique and special spending time with your first born. sometimes I miss just being us and cherish the moments we are one to one. That is what I see and remember when I glance back there.
In the moment I couldn’t wait to leave and get out of there, but now that we’re gone, part of me misses it! Life is so full of irony! x
Sometimes it is difficult to put into words how one is feeling when there is an overload of emotions. Or how to go about saying something and not knowing where or how to start. I am looking for the words. For the sentences. For the creativity to come. For something to click but it’s all a jumbled mess instead.
By nature I am a very organised person. I don’t feel very organised with how to tell everyone I am moving. I have been keeping it pretty quiet but it comes as no surprise with everything that has happened this year medically with my husband. He needs better care. I have been avoiding talking about it because tears seem to instantly choke me.
To move to another country is huge. This will be the third time in my adulthood for me. Moving is normal otherwise, I have over thirty addresses under my belt since the age of 4. One of the first questions I tend to ask myself when moving is, What am I going to keep?
Aside from all the trips we have done already to charity shops, and more to do in the coming weeks, aside from the boot sale and the big storage unit clean out, I hope the main thing I will get to keep are the friendships and the memories. I’m desperate to document as much as possible, as much as my memory serves but goodness knows memory is not reliable! So many people have influenced my life and especially those who have shared these special first years of motherhood. It’s been lovely to have friends who are pregnant at the same time and have children the same age. There is so much understanding and compassion.
Four weeks before the big day. One suitcase is already done packed.
There are many mixed emotions. Excited for a new start with my family and seeing old friends, but always sad to say goodbye to so many loved ones here. With communication today via internet and phones it’s not so bad but still not easy. Especially with kids. They ask questions so innocently it just tugs at your heart.
Last year a friend of mine moved to the north of England and she kept saying, “I can’t think about what I am leaving behind, just what I am moving towards.” I need to think like that too. All the things we plan to accomplish and do for our future.
It’s been good here. It’ll be good there too. So that’s the best I can do in announcing it formally. Nothing overly crafty or creative. Just kind of being blunt I guess. I have been living in Europe over eleven years. That is such a long time. Nearly a third of my life and most of my adult life. There is much I have done and loved.
Four weeks and a new chapter begins. x