So, this is day 5 in the new place. I think there are less than 10 boxes left to unpack - mostly office stuff, pictures to hang on the walls, Mane's toys, and some other fragile decorative items.
Anyway, remember what I said about my family being my home? Well, it's a good thing it is that way because moving has been WAY harder than I thought it would be. I miss our other house. I miss th view out the windows. I especially miss old kichen & bathroom, though the ones here are getting a makeover in the next month. I told Mango the other night that I'm ready for this vacation to be over. It's time to go back home now. Yikes. I thought I'd be totally happy to be here. Our little, solid family made a unified decision to move, and now we're finally here. Maybe we had anticipated it being much more wonderful than it is in reality. The reality is that this new house has a lot of dirt, needs a lot of cleaning and paint, and is organized in a completely different way than the old place. It feels unfamiliar. It makes us homesick.
It's amazing what place can mean to we humans. I just finished reading Esperanza Rising (a book I'd totally recommend, by the way), and in the first chapter Esperanza lies on the ground next to her father to hear the heartbeat of the earth at their ranch in Mexico. People are tied to place in a profound way. I used to say that I left a piece of my heart in Mexico after my first trip there. In an odd sort of way, it came back to me through Vespera. I don't feel a pull toward the country any more, but I certainly feel a connection. Novio, on the other hand, feels a profound sense of loss at having left his homeland. The ocean, the cliffs, the sky. He talks about them all, and the voice of his heart was written all over his face while he watched the waves in Duluth.
When we moved into our old house, I said then that I'd never move again. I didn't realize how much I sunk my roots into that place or what a profound sense of loss I'd feel upon leaving. We still own the house, but other people are living there now. The world has tilted under my feet. I need to find the heartbeat of the new place.
In the meantime, my family carries me through. We shoulder this burden of change together. Even Novio brings his quiet reassurances, telling us it will be fine. We'll be ok. He knows, maybe much more deeply than the rest of us, that we'll be ok. We will find joy in the new.
We wil find joy in the new. May we turn our faces toward change together and open our hearts to joy.