I stand on the step facing the cavernous room full of boxes. Looking down I admire my swollen belly and gently place my hand there as the infant inside moves within me. I already know her name. In my heart we are already mother and daughter.
My focus quickly shifts back to the towers of cardboard that seem to be calling my name. I want to unpack at least one, to start making this place a home. But I also want to pack up everything that has already been taken out and go back. Back to the place I know so well, where everything or almost everyone I need is located. I wonder if I can change my mind.
I feel the tears coming and my throat begins to tighten, thinking about what and who we have left behind and the adverse task of building a new life in this strange place. A small wave of comfort flows through me as I glance over at my boys, playing so happily with the large train track their Dad built for them. I know they are adjusting too. We all are. But in this moment they are good and that means so much.
I’m brought out of my trance as someone knocks on the door, here to fix something in this new-to-us house. I am so happy to see another person, to feel some normalcy. It may sound silly, but it’s just good to know that other people live here too. Never mind that it’s an older man whose name I can barely pronounce and whose accent is hard for me to understand.
Once he is gone I go to close the garage door behind him, still feeling out the exact position of the button. My muscle memory is not familiar with its spot yet. It is the same with the many light switches, several of them oddly placed. There are just so many new things to get used to.
But we are here now and here we shall stay. It’s time to accept it and find the things that are mine. The things I know will fill me with comfort.
I step down into the room and find a box on top to open. I smile widely as I discover it contains my favorite books and photos. The boys play in the background and my baby kicks inside as I whisper to her, “Welcome home sweet girl.”
This was written in response to this prompt:
It’s a fill-in-the-blank-for-your-own-prompt Prompt:
The first time I ________-ed after _________-ing.
I filled it in like this: “The first time I unpacked a box after moving”
Awww. I was right there with you. Beautifully written!
Kat@Seeking Sanity
How wonderful.
This is awesome. I love what you did with the prompt. I read it and couldn’t figure out how anything would fit.
Moving is so hard. I know the pain. But it sounds like you have built a wonderful life for your kids in this home, which is what matters, of course.
This post was so poignant. I as carried along with you. I loved how you used the baby’s movement to keep us grounded. Great job.
I was guessing the whole time as to what you would find….and I was off….wayyyyy off!
Welcome Home!
Moving, change, is so so very hard, isn’t it?
You really grabbed me here from the first glance at your belly, to the search for the garage button placement {fabulous detail, btw} and right through to the welcome home.
Beautifully done, my friend! XO
I love the reference to muscle memory and placement of light switches! Such a great detail. Well done!
What a sweet memory! And great writing, too.