May 1, 2013
What is it about moving.? You pack your belongings but spend more time sifting through boxes of old memories. I can get lost in the past. Will this move cause my history to fall even further away? Become more distant?
At one of our weekly lunches Dad told me he dropped off his prized childhood books at the local second hand store. Sandy wanted him to clear stuff from their basement and she said the books had to go. They were treasures to Dad and he couldn’t bear to just throw them away. He didn’t think the shop-keeper was that impressed but he left them there instead of in a garbage bin. Dad being sad made me sad. I could see Dad had been crying.
After lunch I drove to the store and got the books back. There was no way Dad should lose his books. They would stay with me. I would keep his memories safe. I felt a little foolish explaining this to the guy at the store. No matter, the books and Dad’s feelings needed to be saved. I phoned Dad to tell him I retrieved the books. He quietly thanked me.
Now I’ve pulled them from the back of my closet. Dad’s been gone for a long time and there’s no need to keep them anymore. My move to a smaller place means things have to be tossed. I hate moving. I love tangible evidence of thoughts and times past. I chose one book to stay with me and gave up the others.
I hate everything about moving. I want concrete contact of every precious moment that happened here. I fear when I leave this place the people I have now lost will be truly gone. If I can’t sit here and remember them sitting beside me then what will happen. Will the memory just fade away? I’m so afraid it will. My heart breaks to even imagine this could happen. Is it my one last connection with the people that made me so happy? Am I moving on?
I fear I will never be happy again and leaving here will cement the condition.
Did Dad morn losing his childhood books as his last touchstone to his boyhood? And does it really matter that I hold one for him now. I just don’t know what makes our hearts yearn this much. I only know we do.
Like father, like daughter.