Breaking up is hard to do

No. Put the telephone down. I am not splitting from my wonderful hubby.

The “breakup” I am referring to is not with a person but rather an object…a house to be exact.

With only three weeks left until the highly-anticipated/ dreaded move, I have officially started the process of breaking all emotional ties to my house. I realize this sounds nuts but I think it will help me with the transition. By packing away all photos, paintings and mementos, I’m trying to depersonalize the house (note I’m not saying home) so that I’ll be sick and tired of living in this bland space by the time moving day comes around. However, while I’m growing weary of the bare walls, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I still feel sad about leaving.

Yesterday I actually started tearing up as I puttered in the garden one last time. Most folks would probably just leave the weeds but I gave it the works– edging, pruning, weeding. I’m not sure why but I feel more sorrow over losing the garden than anything else. The garden is somehow symbolic ; hubby and I started it as newlyweds, tended it religiously and watched it grow along with us. Some of my happiest moments were spent in that garden – the one place I could truly unwind. It will be strange not seeing the new shoots come into bloom this spring. I’d love to be able to come back and see what it looks like five years down the road but it would break my heart if I discovered it was gone or poorly tended. I really hope the new owners enjoy it and can add to it.

Isn’t it strange the things we get attached to? I feel silly for getting choked up over a garden. I’ll be able start all over again at our new place but there’s nothing quite like finishing that very first project. Nothing can ever beat the excitement or the sense of accomplishment that comes from owning your first home. I guess I just feel a little more jaded this time because I actually know how much work and money a new home entails. I’m also moving this time as a mother, with significantly less vim, vigour, or time to put towards projects.

This was a house of many firsts and I’m sure I’ll cry when I turn the key in the lock one last time. That being said, I do look forward to creating new memories in our family home; it is, after all, the place that we’ll be living (God willing) until we’re old and grey.