The time for the move is here and though I knew about this day for months now, nothing prepared me for the feeling of having just taken a cold shower that struck me when I saw the “SOLD” sign outside my house, my home.
There is something to be said about the first home in which you felt you had built a family. We brought our babies here; we have celebrated birthdays and holidays; we have created traditions and collected memories within its colorful walls.
I have spent the last month saying goodbye to everyone and everything. Little by little, not knowing in many cases, when would it be the last time that I would see the acquaintances and knowing for sure when I would be giving the last hug to a close friend.
Emotions have been so intense that I feel as though I am hangover. Tingling hands and pounding heart, I had been able to “manage” things. That was until that gigantic moving truck in the photo below showed up in front of the house that, on paper, is no longer mine. The same house I’m finding impossible to say goodbye to.
As hard as saying goodbye to the building itself is, it doesn’t compare to the gaps in the heart that I have acquired as I have said goodbye to my friends, my tribe, my people.
All those friends who have been my companions through these early years of motherhood. The ones that have consoled me, who have nursed their babies as I nursed mine, who have my back always.
I’m going to miss all you dearly and terribly. How do I even begin to explain how my heart stings? How the tears choked in the back of my throat prevent me from talking clearly, from expressing love and gratitude?
I feel like I’m leaving behind a part of me with each of you. I will miss you and your smiles, your teachings, our discussions, the feeling of being surrounded by friends who are like family.
I guess this is it.
As I see many friends these last days, I know that it is the last time I will see them in a while and I can’t help it but to feel this pit in my stomach