[post-posting ... originally written in March, 2012]

I'm having heart palpitations.

Nothing serious, and I don't need to go see a doctor, but I feel anxiety-ridden nonetheless.

I am looking at my row of boots, and feeling nervous.

I bought my first pair of boots after meeting the Husb.  I always felt previous to our relationship that I wasn't grown up enough to wear them.  Don't ask me why I felt that way. 

Fast forward to now, and I have accumulated a nice little collection of some really great boots.  

Cowboy boots, knee high blacks with a heel, every day boots from Kmart, of all places, and a lovely, lovely pair of red boots.

As our move date gets closer and closer, I have been attempting to slowly touch the different areas of our house.

First with a sweeping kind of acknowledgement.

Soaking in the contents of each room and giving a quiet and internal nod to the things that would be going to the United States, what would be sold, etc.

Then a bit later, I would return to that same room, this time with a bit more energy and armed with a giant black plastic bag (well, to be honest I do NOT have giant black plastic bags, because they don't exist in Delhi, but you get the intention behind this intention).

I would remove the empty bags of chips, the pieces of paper with half of a person penciled in.  I would throw away the cups that had obviously sat for too long with milk in them, and put to the side the pieces of various games and puzzles that I knew I needed to track down the sibling pieces for.

Those bags would make their way outside, and to the trash walla, where they would soon find their way to the human recycling bin ... and the contents would be picked apart and repurposed.

* * *

Coming back around though to today, the packing company just left my house and it feels as though I've just run a marathon, climbed Mt. Everest and swam the English Canal, all in the span of two hours.

To try and decide what of our precious belongings should go WHERE. To decide whether the salt and chalk creation that Mia did over the summer should just be thrown away, or sent to Florida for safe-keeping and prideful display.

I've unearthed three years worth of report cards, and art projects and half-finished book creations.  Developed film from Photography 201, unframed masterpieces and keepsakes from various market trips with friends.

To have the packers point to Mia's barbie and LPS collection and be asked "is all of that going to ONE location, ma'am, or split up between the three?"

I am having heart palpitations.

I have no idea where to send my boots, let alone the things that our family holds near and dear. 

1 of you said:

deb said...

I can't imagine all the decisions you had to make! But... no it's all behind you and you're in Florida for the summer. So exciting!

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