this is the trunk that my mom used to pack up her belongings and begin her journey of life in canada. all of her "stuff" in this one small trunk. seems unreal. she was 21. I am guessing it mostly held clothes and perhaps some photos, letters and food?
I remember her telling me how sick she was on the boat that became her home for two weeks. I try to imagine how she felt. what courage did it take to pack up your life and move to another part of the world? how did she decide what to bring? how hard it must have been to leave her family not knowing when she would see them again. did she feel alone? scared? excited? my father was waiting for her on the other end and I am sure that was her goal. get to canada and marry the man of her dreams. her one true love. build a life in a new country...
as I am sorting and sifting through things to pack up for our new adventure I find myself reflecting a lot. we have been preparing for this for over two years. we have packed up and let go of many things along the way and yet there is still so much contained in these four walls.
a lot of it is not even material things. a lot of it is memories. I turn a corner and remember that moment when we spent the weekend creating a new room for dan. we painted the walls to resemble green grass and littered the ceiling with glow in the dark stars. he could lay in his bed and it would feel like he was outside laying in the grass looking up at the night sky.
or that moment at the kitchen table when we were carving pumpkins for the first time. I bought all the right tools, stencils and was just so excited to make it perfect. turned out that the stencils were not a big hit. freehand was in and the perfection part came in the laughter when we compared pumpkin guts to brains.
with each box I open and sort through - again I am reminded of these moments. I have always known that the moments are what are precious not the items. some things are easy to let go of when I look at them for the second or third time. others I want to hold on tight to. I want to be transported back into that moment. I feel that what I am holding close to me will enable me to return to that exact moment in time. the truth is I can return there at anytime with or without that item.
I think about the family who will live here after us. will they know how wonderful this home is? not the house. not the walls or the floors. the "home". will they feel it? will they sense that love was here? love was always here. in moments of beauty and in moments of struggle. we always loved.
as the walls become bare and the rooms empty I feel like I too am stripping down and emptying out. getting ready to build a new "home" and new memories and at times I feel uncertain. have we made the right decision? in those times of uncertainty I remind myself that no matter where we live we will always have our love and that is what I am holding close to me today.