I've decided to document my life a little more. I never was very good at journaling so in a way this will be my journal... we'll see how long it lasts... today's theme, however, was chosen for me...
After class I gathered some things and stepped into the elevator to descend from my fourth floor room to the basement that exits into the parking lot. Here I searched out my car and drove the 50 min. to a once welcoming home full of people, love, and laughter. No one was there when I arrived... I was just me facing this:
The family room stacked high of boxes each containing a significant item in my life from one period or another. Each hastily packed by uncaring hands eager to clear them from their place to make room for new guests. Thank goodness my mom was offering some supervision. At least enough to rescue possessions I've saved for years that were quickly chucked into a garbage bag as worthless...
And now to face it one more time... one last time... This tomb-like door once bore memories and celebrations of me welcoming visitors in... now it stands a barrier separating the past from the future....
This sticker stays almost alone... a testimony of what once was... in many ways it represents the present also... "Vintage Wash".... just as I have been washed from and out of this place...
I open the door to familiar colors... however all else familiar is gone... this is the last time I shall see this place... after tomorrow it will belong to two brothers in the gospel... two beings I've never met in this life will reside in what was once my sanctuary... I truly have no where to run now... no where to hide...
Everything empty like being rubbed out of the world... I guess every ending is a beginning but I'm not prepared to start new...I'm not prepared for this...
Good bye fabulous green and purple light switch... may you service someone far more worthy of you when I leave...
Then back to the pity party... I'm not sure humbling is the right word for this one... However, nothing makes you feel more like dirt than looking into a garbage bag filled with things you loved so much and cherished so dear knowing someone else deemed them garbage... not only that, but did so before even removing them from their given spot but literally ripping them down... not caring what damage or mishap comes to them in the process... seriously... what mormons tear mormonads???
Still sorting.... will my life forever more be banished to boxes? where will i take these? where will they find a new home? Where will i find ground to root again???
Well... at least these can come with me to skewl... Good bye hallway... May the Spirit be strong with you as the missionaries fill your hollow spaces!
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2 comments:
Ahh May, I'm sorry. I had a similar experience. When I graduated from high school, my family moved while I went on a trip. I came back and everything was packed. I felt stripped. It was sad. I didn't open any of the boxes for a few years because it was too hard to review the memories that didn't have somewhere solid to stick. My suggestion to you is to repress, repress, repress. Just kidding. Make new, better, greater memories in a brighter, happier place. It'll happen. When the Lord closes a door, he opens a window.
Well it was a fun pity party going back through memory lane.. I had some fun times with you in that room just hanging out!
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