I thought it would be easy.
I was wrong.
I thought that moving into this house and “house-sitting” for the year would be the answer to my prayers. Sure, I was still paying almost the same amount of rent but I didn’t have to worry about a deposit and a few other incidentals that I had to pay if I were to rent any other place.
Silly me, I forgot how much The Powers That Be LOVE to @(#* me up.
I didn’t think it would be a big deal to have ALL of my worldly possessions (that keep dwindling down to less and less with each move) packed and stored in a garage and half a basement. I didn’t think it would be hard to step right into someone else’s reality and preserve it for them while they were enjoying a year in Italy.
I was wrong.
It was easy at first, and a carefree feeling had settled into my heart. I enjoyed the large lived-in home and made myself comfortable among unfamiliar surroundings. But then, slowly, I began missing some of the things that had for so long been at my fingertips. The things that brought me comfortable memories and reminded me of the children I loved and the parents who loved me. I miss the photos that were packed in bozes; the quilts lovingly stitched by my mother and the small wooden elephant my father had given me when we met his boat as it docked in Nice almost 50 years ago.
I didn’t know I’d miss the field hockey sticks perched in a corner, or the container near the TV of various controls, wires and cords that connected to some kind of game station to something in the back of the TV. I didn’t know I’d miss the five BAZILLION wine glasses I used for vodka, my familiar kitchen utensils, my books perched on shelves or my various junk in my various junk drawers.
I didn’t know I’d miss my stuff.
The lesson I’ve learned from all of this melancholy? (Besides the fact that women who’ve had all their “stuff” removed can still apparently be hormonal and wackadoodle once in a while) is this: I guess if you can’t have the people you love most around you, it’s helps to surround yourself with the things that “bring them back”.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to the basement to root through boxes and bring back my people. (I need some love around here.)