I wrote this post on Sunday, June 16th, but for some reason it didn’t post from the WordPress app on my phone. So here it is (again!). My apologies to those of you who subscribe via email and receive notification about the same post twice!
I left another home behind yesterday. A two bedroom apartment with walls painted a welcoming shade of tan, instead of a stark white. A bit sketchy on the outside but comfortable and safe within.
If the walls of that apartment could tell you their secrets, they would tell you how this year challenged me. They would reveal just how many tears were shed into my pillow and the way I hold my two precious teddy bears tight to my chest when I’m lonely. They would remember the glimmers of hope and excitement that ran through me as I sat in the glow of the purple lamp at the foot of the bed late one November night and realized that pursuing a career in speech pathology was an attainable goal. They would smile at the memory of two sisters sitting close on the couch on Wednesday nights, in fits of uncontrollable laughter.
Each home I’ve had serves as a small compartment in my memory. Each contains a piece of my life. Memories of the past four years are spread between seven compartments of varying sizes. Each compartment has a special place in my heart.
In a couple months I’ll get settled into a new home with new walls to observe my joys and keep my secrets. Sometimes it’s hard for me to be happy with moving so often and having so many different places I’ve called home in the past few years. But this move will be different because I’ll be moving into a house where I’ll live with my sister like I haven’t since high school.
It will be a home filled with love and laughter. And that’s the best kind, isn’t it?