I hate moving. I hate packing up everything I own, I hate cleaning up, I hate loading boxes onto trucks, I hate moving the boxes into new houses and I hate unpacking. I just hate the entire business of it.
Packing up one's bedroom, clearing it out so that nothing of me remains behind is vastly different. All my clothes are either in a huge duffle bag for my sojourn in England, in Goodwill bags or staying here because I know my sister will get some use out of them. I'm not leaving one bedroom for another, I'm leaving it all together. I no longer have a room, I have to find another, a new space, one that won't be crowded with the reminders of my past-just of my future.
It means taking a good, hard look at all those little bits of odds and ends that I've held onto because I can need to go somewhere. I have always used moving as a time to get rid of stuff I don't need anymore and I am once more plagued with indecision. Do I really need to keep the pogs? I never really played with them all too frequently when I was a kid... are they really that important? What about the stickers? Or that first year clarinet music book from which I learned basic fingerings? It's probably a good thing I no longer have the Fussel book or else I'd agonize about that too... and I hated that book. I was never good with those exercises anyway.
But I'm not just moving and clearing away things, I am, in a sense, moving onto a different phase of my life. When I return next fall I will need different things. Do I really need that silly mask my roommates and I wore at the Mardi Gras festivities the Commons hosted that first year in 2005? Oh but those were sweet memories. The beads from the night adorn my headboard. I also have the child size Home Depot apron a friend and I begged off of the Home Depot table at the Walk for Life in 2006 in Merced my Senior year at UC Merced. It was silly but it has my name on it.
Even as I write this I know the answer to all these questions and the answer is-yes. I don't need them but they are reminders of a very happy time in my history, when I was on the verge of change, when I had been changed. No, I won't bring them with me as I shall be returning home and yes, it's clutter but I get a smile whenever I see them.
But the biggest sign of change is my bed. I love that bed. I bought it the start before my senior year of college. It's green and it cost me $100. Yeah, it was a steal. The store I bought it from in Merced said that it was discontinued and there were only two left and he just wanted to get rid of them. Score for my roomie and me.
It has been supporting me for the last five years (2006-2011) and I am very fond of it as it is a reminder of a great time in my life. But there is no room in the house for it as my sister will be bringing in her bed. Nor is there going to be any room for it in the garage as it's full and gonna get fuller with my sister's stuff here soon.
So I need to say goodbye to my bed and find a good home for it.
There are some memories we can hold in our hand and keep for a lifetime and some memories we have to keep only in our minds and hearts, an allow the physical to move on.
And yes, this has been a post about my bed and my reluctance to give it away. As I said, I love that bed and I really wish I could keep it.
Have I mentioned how much I hate moving?
Packing up one's bedroom, clearing it out so that nothing of me remains behind is vastly different. All my clothes are either in a huge duffle bag for my sojourn in England, in Goodwill bags or staying here because I know my sister will get some use out of them. I'm not leaving one bedroom for another, I'm leaving it all together. I no longer have a room, I have to find another, a new space, one that won't be crowded with the reminders of my past-just of my future.
It means taking a good, hard look at all those little bits of odds and ends that I've held onto because I can need to go somewhere. I have always used moving as a time to get rid of stuff I don't need anymore and I am once more plagued with indecision. Do I really need to keep the pogs? I never really played with them all too frequently when I was a kid... are they really that important? What about the stickers? Or that first year clarinet music book from which I learned basic fingerings? It's probably a good thing I no longer have the Fussel book or else I'd agonize about that too... and I hated that book. I was never good with those exercises anyway.
But I'm not just moving and clearing away things, I am, in a sense, moving onto a different phase of my life. When I return next fall I will need different things. Do I really need that silly mask my roommates and I wore at the Mardi Gras festivities the Commons hosted that first year in 2005? Oh but those were sweet memories. The beads from the night adorn my headboard. I also have the child size Home Depot apron a friend and I begged off of the Home Depot table at the Walk for Life in 2006 in Merced my Senior year at UC Merced. It was silly but it has my name on it.
Even as I write this I know the answer to all these questions and the answer is-yes. I don't need them but they are reminders of a very happy time in my history, when I was on the verge of change, when I had been changed. No, I won't bring them with me as I shall be returning home and yes, it's clutter but I get a smile whenever I see them.
But the biggest sign of change is my bed. I love that bed. I bought it the start before my senior year of college. It's green and it cost me $100. Yeah, it was a steal. The store I bought it from in Merced said that it was discontinued and there were only two left and he just wanted to get rid of them. Score for my roomie and me.
It has been supporting me for the last five years (2006-2011) and I am very fond of it as it is a reminder of a great time in my life. But there is no room in the house for it as my sister will be bringing in her bed. Nor is there going to be any room for it in the garage as it's full and gonna get fuller with my sister's stuff here soon.
So I need to say goodbye to my bed and find a good home for it.
There are some memories we can hold in our hand and keep for a lifetime and some memories we have to keep only in our minds and hearts, an allow the physical to move on.
And yes, this has been a post about my bed and my reluctance to give it away. As I said, I love that bed and I really wish I could keep it.
Have I mentioned how much I hate moving?
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