I have words swirling around in my head. If you are reading this, consider yourself warned. This may not make a hell of a lot of sense, but I need to release the tension that fills the space between my ears. So here it goes.
We are in the process of packing our home and moving. I explain how it’s all been in Slow Motion and I will be more than thrilled when it is all said and done. I won’t even elude to the fact that when we move it will not be our last time, because where we are going is just a stepping stone to get from where we are now. So there’s that. If I think too much about it all I may pluck all my hair out and being that my husband prefers long luscious locks that is NOT an option.
In the meantime, my husband has been commuting four hours a day to and from work for the last year, and it has put a considerable amount of strain on our relationship besides having this year be the first with our newest addition. He also balances his previous life with two sons and sees them one night during the week, which also takes time away from our life, not to mention when the baseball season is upon us, 2x during the year, he can be away additional time to see his older son play ball~over an hour away.***This is not a complaint, I knew what I was signing up for when we got married. I am just venting.
There are other things that weigh heavy on my mind when it comes to this whole moving ordeal and I am trying to keep those under wraps and remain as sane as possible in the process. (I may try to explain those further at a later date)
For now there is the fact that my husband is a ‘saver’ and I am NOT. He has several items that he holds on to for whatever reason and in the moving process I am finding it hard to understand why he cannot just let them go. Our current home was the home he lived in with his ex-wife, of almost 11 years, there are furniture, dishes, and pictures that I could give a rat’s ass about keeping and he feels differently about those items. I would rather sit & eat off the floor than bring them into our next place, but practically speaking we cannot afford to buy all new items, so I am trying to compromise. Except knowing that financial issues (along with infidelity~she cheated on him) were a big cause for their martial demise I find it hard to want to keep such items in our home. To me it’s just bad juju. To him it represents hours of hard work and money he earned in order to purchase such items. When I look into our back yard and see a $8,000 dollar swing set purchased one day, while he was at work, without his knowledge I just cringe. I am NOT perfect, I have flaws and issues like anyone else I probably spend money at times when I should not, but I can honestly say I would NEVER make a purchase of that magnitude without my husband’s consent. Heck I have a hard time spending over $50.00 without feeling some sort of remorse or guilt. She was a different type of woman and when I leave this house I would like to leave as much of her behind with it.
As for the rest… we are downsizing. Considerably. We will be renting a 2 bedroom home for seven people, yes, you read that correctly. **Keep in mind we transform into a family of 7 from a family of 3 only four times out of a month. So as crazy as it seems it is totally do-able, at least for now. We don’t really have many options for various reasons.
We currently live in a huge, cookie-cutter style house in the middle of suburgatory. (No offense to anyone who lives in this type of home or neighborhood, I did in my previous life, but it is no longer my cup of tea). This home, notice I did not say our home, because even after almost 3 years of living here, I do not feel like it is ours. It has 4 bedrooms, 2 1/2 baths, a third floor bonus room and a 2 car garage on a cul-de-sac. It has never felt warm to me or like a place that I am proud to call home. I don’t spend much time enjoying the space around me and putting my personal touches here and there. It has remained the way I entered it stark, cold, and untouched. Sort of a metaphor for the lives lived here before it all ended very abruptly and without warning on Christmas Eve of 2008. That is when she chose to tell him she was leaving him for another man. Oh, and by the way that she was pregnant with that man’s baby.
I know my husband has had some good memories here and yet, I know within these walls there is a lot of pain too. If only the walls could speak I often wonder the story they would tell. The side they would choose and how I might possibly view his ex-wife differently. Regardless of it all I am ready for us to start anew. To be revived. Three years feels like ten. We have certainly tested our relationship’s capacity to the max and we still have miles to go before we sleep. Miles my friends and those miles are words, hopefully turned into posts for another time.
I may fall of the face of the earth within the next few weeks. It seems writing in my journal comes easier these days. Like I am ashamed to post things. I am not going to lie. I am not polite or graceful when it comes to this whole moving thing. Too much tied to my past and I transform into a monster, the more the boxes pile up. Some days I am too depressed to write and I cannot bring myself to share. I try too hard to be sweet, kind, and like-able. But as I was taught so profoundly by my mother you cannot judge another person until you have walked a mile in their shoes.
Of course I don’t want to judge anyone we all have our crosses to bare. But if you want to try my shoes on and walk a few miles in them, maybe for the next month and a half, you can. Will you pack a few boxes while your in them and move a house full of stuff while your at it too?