Well here I am, up and out of bed when I really REALLY should be getting my beauty sleep! I need it! A lot.
But I can’t sleep. My mind is whizzing around moving from this thought to that… I started blogging in my head but about a paragraph in I could feel that familiar sting of heat in my eyes, the tears were on their way. I haven’t cried yet. Some of my friends have when I broke the news that we were moving. I guess that means I am loved? Well I love them all dearly too but I am trying not to think about that. I am trying not to think of what I am leaving behind. Because I am not really. I mean I’ll be back. Regularly. But I also know that things may never be the same. And this time it is me who is making the change. I am not a helpless bystander as a good friend or family member decide to expand their horizons, with no option but to accept what they are doing and get my head around it. It is me moving away. Away from the area my parents moved to when I was just a baby.
I guess in a way I am doing the exact same thing my parents did at this stage in their lives. They were younger than we are now, but we are pretty much at that same stage… Ready to settle, with young children, wanting to find that elusive perfect place to bring them up.
I love ‘home’. It gives me a sense of belonging. I am scared of this move we are about to embark on. I guess in a way I know what awaits me and it frightens the crap out of me. It’s a fresh start but it comes with a lack of familiarity, a lack of local acceptance, of people who have known me since pre school, my sister in law, closest friends and family will not be there when I am having a bad day to have a quick cuppa with. No one will call in for a cuppa (not to start with anyway).
I know how hard this part was on my Mum, I know she struggled with it for a VERY long time! I wonder how different my and my brothers lives would have been had she not persisted. Had she turned around and gone ‘home’?
The Handyman, bless him, is not really much of a conversationalist, which works well for us as I am very much a talker (never would have known would you?) but where does that leave me? When I just want a bit of a chat?
I am moving from a place of familiar friendly faces, of people who have known me forever, of past relationships, friendships and of course the ocassional frienemy (but better the devil you know as they say). To a place full of unknown. Sure, it is full of potential, it is beautiful (so is home) and I know I will give it my best to try and fit in, become part of the community but at what cost?
My friends and family will always be just that – so very important but what next?
I try not to think about it too much, I am afraid if I start to cry I might wuss out and that is really not an option. I want the Handyman to achieve his dream and succeed in his venture. I want my children to grown up in a small tight knit community, with all the treasures that offers (just like I did) and in order for that to happen I need to be brave and face the unknown (just like my parents did some 30+ years ago). Don’t get me wrong. I am excited. I look forward to new discoveries, to seeing Gerty start Kindergarten, to new friendships and a country lifestyle, a slower pace, a healthy life change that the Handman and I have comitted to upon this move.
Until now I have tried to stay focussed on the exciting stuff rather than the stuff that scares the shit out of me! But now, now that packing is in full swing, carpet cleaners are booked and Christmas is looming I realise just how real it all is and how HUGE this all is…
I don’t want to cry. I am worried that if I start I might not stop. I know I am only moving a few hundred kilometres and I know that to many of you who have moved much much further it may seem trivial and even rather silly that I am as freaked out as I am about it all but I guess when the furthest away you have ever really lived (bar a few months in the big smoke during uni) is barely a half hour from where you grew up, where you see some of your closest friends several times a week and you identify yourself by where you grew up – it really does feel like a big deal!
So… at this stage of my freak out any words of encouragement will be most welcomed. Any words… Anyone?
Facebook
Twitter
Heya. I know it may seem hard and I completely understand what you are saying. It’s not just the house that makes a home. It’s the people who you are close by to. The town and familiar places. And like you said, The feeling of belonging. You shouldn’t cry. It is not forever and you WILL be back. If you feel this is good for Kidlets and Handyman then this is truly going to be a great adventure! Of course it won’t be easy. I understand that it’s scary as because it is so far away from where you grew up, it’s like growing up all over again! Where you are is everything you know. Over there is all unknown and it is always daunting. But if it is to be a close knit community there it shouldn’t take you long. You are a very friendly person. Bubbly. Cheerful. Always with a smile. It won’t take long for them all to fall in love with you! You will miss your friends and family for a while but you will learn to adjust with phone calls or emails and regular visits. I hope this move brings all that you dream of!
Always a place to stay with us…… with Gerty starting kinder you will easily meet new people. There is always Fb & skype for virtual cuppa & chat.
Big Big Hug for you…. you have the courage to do this and the support of people who love you. You’ll make friends down there in no time and be a central part of the community. Food (as in cupcakes!!) is always a winner with people