Leaving home

1 Jun

Saying goodbye to our home has been harder than I expected.  Up until this we’d moved every year for at least six years.  For a while I was applying for police jobs, and my background forms always had lots of attached pages; when asked to list my addresses and jobs for the last ten years, it always ran in to a second page.

But this was our first house.  We did so much work on it.  Our children were born while there.  Our daughter learned to walk there.  She’s been a trooper, hiding in her room so we wouldn’t see her crying when we sold her bed… it helps that we’re now staying in her best friend’s basement for a couple weeks.  But this is rough on all of us, more than I thought (and I generally approach things like this in the assumption they’re going to suck, hoping to be pleasantly surprised).  It’s not just the room, or the stuff (two trips to the dump Sunday morning!), but perhaps the intangibles.

The video geek in me is a bit reluctant to post this purely due to video quality- to anonymize it without the original tapes (now all packed up) it’s been run through enough filters, uploaded and downloaded and recompressed, etc… anyway, it looked much prettier before all that.  But you go to blog with the content you have, not the content you want.  I’d been playing with and testing a new video rig (thus the learning curve on pulling focus), and wanting to get a bit more footage of our home.

At this point I don’t think it had really set in for her what leaving really meant.  For that matter, I’m not sure it has yet for any of us.  We’re still in the process of finding out.

So now we’re living out of suitcases for more than two months.

The cats are doing as well as could be expected; one of them we thought had run away last night, but apparently she just hid in a closet box or something and then fell asleep for a few hours- she’d gotten scared by some older neighborhood kids wanting to see the visitor’s cats.   The other (the smart one, generally) managed to find a way this morning to crawl through a hole in the ceiling of the basement, up through a hole in the kitchen floor, to get in to the verboten upstairs (with the other cat that actually lives there).

So what makes a home?  Hearts can be spread all over these days, and half of us don’t wear hats regularly.

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