One year
My mom and grandmother are moving back home to Iowa as I type this. It’s very bittersweet, helping them pack up their things, seeing them sell the furniture I spent my preteen and teenage years sinking into and letting it comfort me. I know, logically, that this is the best thing for them, that they’ll be with more family up there that can help take care of my mom, that my grandmother and mother can go back to where they grew up, on the Iowa / Illinois border, where you cross the Mississippi to get to the better movie theater.
I find reminiscing and going back to old memories hard, so I try not to do it too much, but when that paper you spent hours on only to have the printer spit out unintelligible yellow lines rather than your masterpiece somehow unearths itself, you remember cursing and kicking your desk in a fit of teenage rage. When the evidence of your obsession over keeping everything, including the scraps of paper, related to dolphins spills out, you remember how utterly *convinced* you were that you knew so much.
A few years ago, this idea first got off the ground - that my mom and grandma would move. I was quite saddened, as that would mean I had no family anywhere near me. Who would I call when sick? Who would I spend Sunday afternoons with? If my mom needed something, how could I get to her? It didn’t come to fruition then, but it stayed as an idea. I grew up a bit more, got married, and now, it’s hurtful, but not the deep sadness I first imagined. I know I’ll still long for Sundays spent talking with my mom at her place and sitting on the old furniture, but I can also look forward to spending Sundays with my husband now, on our new furniture.
It’ll be our one-year anniversary Monday. Here’s to making new memories.
I find reminiscing and going back to old memories hard, so I try not to do it too much, but when that paper you spent hours on only to have the printer spit out unintelligible yellow lines rather than your masterpiece somehow unearths itself, you remember cursing and kicking your desk in a fit of teenage rage. When the evidence of your obsession over keeping everything, including the scraps of paper, related to dolphins spills out, you remember how utterly *convinced* you were that you knew so much.
A few years ago, this idea first got off the ground - that my mom and grandma would move. I was quite saddened, as that would mean I had no family anywhere near me. Who would I call when sick? Who would I spend Sunday afternoons with? If my mom needed something, how could I get to her? It didn’t come to fruition then, but it stayed as an idea. I grew up a bit more, got married, and now, it’s hurtful, but not the deep sadness I first imagined. I know I’ll still long for Sundays spent talking with my mom at her place and sitting on the old furniture, but I can also look forward to spending Sundays with my husband now, on our new furniture.
It’ll be our one-year anniversary Monday. Here’s to making new memories.