“Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again”
-Sounds of Silence
Simon & Garfunkle
Yesterday I unearthed my sewing machine from amidst the boxes that are strewn everywhere. My son needed some new pajamas and I decided I would quickly whip up a pair. As I sat at my sewing machine I felt like whispering “Oh hello old friend!”. The lyrics to Sounds of Silence began running through my head and I realized how accurate they were.
I am a passionate, sensitive, deep feeling person. It took me years to admit this to myself and to embrace it. My husband is a very even person- everything in moderation. While on the other side is me, up and down, high and low. The two extremes are very real, when I feel happy or excited about something I feel it with every part of myself. On the flip side there are times when the pain of something is all encompassing and clouds over my vision.
Moving and selling our House has proven to be way more stressful than my husband or I anticipated. Cleaning out my past from our attic invited all sorts of demons to visit. It became difficult to see what was real from what was imagined. We’re currently living in a rental home while we wait for our home to sell and then we hope to buy again. Uncertainty is hard for me, it makes me feel out of control. As this is temporary we aren’t unpacking but I’ve done what I can to create a home in this space.
When the Darkness comes to stay it is so hard to remember what it is that brings me peace and joy and relief. It is difficult to see through the dark heavy fog. It wasn’t until I sat at my sewing machine to sew some pajamas (I’m grateful to my son for needing new pj’s) that I remembered how much fulfillment I get from completing projects. Once I started I couldn’t stop, I made each child a new pair and started a quilt. I began to remember some of the other things that bring clarity and lightness: loud music while I do mundane household chores, a good book, meditation, honest prayer.
My heart felt heavy today as I took these final pictures of our home. I’ve moved enough times in my life that I don’t get attached to spaces, but my children do. My son was a bit teary eyed as he recalled how long he had lived there. This is the only home my children will remember, my girls have never lived anywhere else, and so my heart feels heavy with compassion for the sadness in their little hearts. I took some dusk pictures of our home looking homey to stash in their “special box(es)”. I’m grateful they are attached to the space, I am grateful we created a home from those walls where they felt safe and loved.
The fog has cleared and I am optimistic and looking forward to creating a new home in whatever house we find. Another space that I hope will become a haven to our children as grow and face more of the challenges that life has in store for them.