Monday, April 16, 2007
We're westward bound. I have a rather romanticized forecast on moving westward. There's such a rustic, empowering feeling about forging roots in western soil. Months of talking and dreaming has turned into "We've just got to do this." Congratulations, San Francisco. You won. As I think about it, my subconscious has been quietly prodding me towards SF for quite some time:
1. My fascination with sharks and the Farallon Islands.
2. My appreciation of the ocean and ocean dwellers.
3. General love of boats, preferably sail boats.
4. Excitment found in traveling over bridges.
5. Eternal love of peninsular land.
6. My unyeilding support of the 49ers. (the gold diggers, not the football team)
7. Recurrent dreams of walking on distant shores.
This will be a good move. For us. For me.
We've been talking a bit lately about attachment to "things." I've come to the conclusion that if there is any one "thing" we're allowed to be attached to, it's home. Whatever you consider home. When we move in August, we'll have almost been in 904 Rose for 2 years. Buying this house was such a big deal for us. I already find myself sitting in random places in our house so I can remember them. Appreciate them. We had big plans for this place. Benches around the back porch. A library in the attic. A porch swing. That porcelain bathtub I've always wanted. A basement arcade. I'd like to give a specific list to future residents of all the things they need to do to the house.
I'm crying. I've never been good at letting go.
I'm telling myself it's okay to be sad, it doesn't mean we shouldn't move.
We'll find another perfect house and make it a home.
I'll just remind myself of #1-7.