When Your Home is Just a House

It's a funny thing in life to make a home.  I've lived in so many apartments, a sorority house, my parent's house...  Moving from here to there, shoving your pictures, my First Communion Cross (for which my sister, Christy, can never seem to stop making fun), love letters and emails, that box of wine glasses that once held 18 and now have 10.  In my many years as a Navy brat growing up, this process became very familiar to me.  New friends, new schools, new clubs.  Through it all, I have become all too familiar with empty houses and moving boxes.  So much so, that this time around, I was expecting it to be the same old thing.  But then something hits you/me: moving is never easy or the same or mundane.  It's painful and leaves you feeling so hauntingly alone at times that you wonder why you would ever do it?  Why aren't we those people who went to elementary school with the same people and then hung out at the local bar in town watching each other get married and have babies.  Sometimes I envy those people so much for the relationships that they have and hold on to for years.   

I had a dream last night about that first morning when I will wake up in Italy.  After flying for hours, losing a day, stressing about whether or not my cats will have a nervous breakdown or not, I'm most nervous now about waking up that first morning in Italy and having the realization sink in that "Oh my God, I'm living in Italy thousands of miles away from my family and friends."  Not since my first night in a dorm room in college have I been so nervous about a move like this.

But here we are just the same.  I'm sitting on the stairs with a cat watching me on a deflated air mattress.  One lawn chair, 4 suit cases and a propane tank are all that fill my living room.  It reminds me of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas," when little Suzy Lou Hoo walked into their room and all that was left from the hooks and one Christmas ornament.  That's what my home feels like now.  After spending so many weekends changing light fixtures and wandering around Lowe's with Tom picking out the perfect outlet covers, all of our hard work seems really sad without our furniture or stuff to make it feel real.  I know that they are just things and can all be replaced, but those things, those silly First Communion Crosses and that picture from our wedding are sitting in a crate.  I know we'll make a new home again soon but for the moment, after saying goodbye to friends and colleagues and my kitties, the seven bottles of mustard in my fridge and those hideous couches of Tom's from before we started dating, I miss it all and the home that we had here. 

Tomorrow will be our last full day in San Diego.  We're shipping two kitties off to my mom after having an allergic reaction to the rabies vaccine and the last minute realization that their crates were not large enough for international travel, we're keeping our fingers, toes and paws all crossed tightly in the hopes that Continental will take them with open arms and deliver them safely to my Momma.  Neville will fly out on Tuesday, we'll drop off the keys, garage door opener and parking pass and off we'll go. 

Since our movers got everything packed and loaded on a truck in 8 hours, not three days, we've been living here on air mattresses and lawn furniture.  It's odd being here with so little stuff and odd to say goodbye but still be in the same zip code.  For the adventures that are yet to come, I'm willing to endure the sadness of parting ways for now.  I just hope that everyone here in San Diego, with whom we've shared even one laugh or one story about The Real Housewives of Where Ever, thank you.  You've all made me feel so blessed to know you, to share a moment of your life and your laughter and I sincerely wish you all the very best.

Big hugs (and a few tears),
Lynne
xoxo