Moving is hard. Not only is it time-consuming and stress-inducing, but it can be rather emotional. So many memories are tied to the places we live. We associate periods of time and seasons of life with our homes.
Currently, I am experiencing two big home-related changes. In one, my parents are renovating the house where I grew up and where they have spent the entirety of their marriage, as it could use some updating. The whole house is changing, which requires them to move out for much of 2019. They sorted through every inch of the house, and I, my bedroom, and together we donated heaps of things, carefully choosing what we would keep.
While at times it was difficult to give away so much, it was also incredibly therapeutic to let go. (See how I handled going through all my childhood and adolescent books.) For the most part, it was a positive experience. I needed to go through all of those things that were frankly just sitting in that room collecting dust, and the renovation was a perfect opportunity to do so.
However, once everything was out and in storage, I felt a deep nostalgia. Walking around the empty house, I visualized all our Thanksgiving and Christmases. I thought about sleepovers with friends and days lounging on blankets in the backyard. I recalled our dogs who had lived there and pictured Alex and Gracey and Millie lying in their favorite places. I hoped they would understand that things were changing but that we were coming back.
I stood there, holding the only thing left: a plant I would keep for my mom during the renovation. The plant that sat on her bathtub where I would soak when I had a cold. I stood there, simply absorbing the memories and feeling it all.
Elsie (my parents’ current pup) and I walked, wandered, and remembered through each room, as I took videos and pictures. And then I thought about how wonderful our lives were. I was overcome with gratitude for my childhood and my family. How lucky I was to have a home I loved and treasured so much. And how wonderful the house would be after the renovation, I knew. It was just improving, not disappearing.
The second big change is that I myself am getting ready to move. For the past two years, I have been living alone in a one-bedroom apartment that I adore. I even wrote about how much I love this arrangement. But I am thrilled to be moving in with my boyfriend, H. Our new place is perfect for us, and we are so ready for this adventure together.
At the same time, I am attached to my little place. It is very me, and just feels like mine. I love listening to the fountain in the courtyard beneath my balcony, curling up on my couch in the evenings, and decorating with string lights as I please. It was in that apartment that I found independence and freedom, and learned how to craft a home of which I felt proud. It was on that couch that I started The Honey Print.
Thanks of my positive experiences living alone, I feel fully prepared to live with H. I am a self-sufficient person with clear ideas for what I want my home to be. And the thought of soon having a two-bedroom place with plenty of room to be – and to decorate for the holidays! – excites me quite a bit. I know our new space will hold new memories and experiences, and carries new possibilities.
As I’ve gone through these processes, I decided to create a checklist for you, to pin or save if your living situation is ever changing:
I hope this helps your house nostalgia, as it has helped me. Feeling all the things is totally normal, but it’s temporary. You will get through this, too, just as you have before.
Love, Bee
