Packing up and moving can be very stressful. I should know, because have done it many times. I can recall 13 different places that I have called home in my life. But this time it's different. Because most of the things I am packing, I am not taking with me. When I get to my new house, there will be no boxes to unpack. There will be no pictures or paintings to hang on the wall, no cutlery to fill up the kitchen drawers, and no heavy furniture to tilt on its side so it fits through the door. Just a few suitcases. What will be in them? That is what I am struggling with right now. What things really matter? I can admit that I am somewhat materialistic...ok, well maybe a little more than the average person, but I admire quality and I appreciate fine things. Clothing is definately high on that list. So, my biggest suitcase is full of clothes. Lots of clothes. I will have to sit on it to zip it up. The next suitcase...well, I haven't really started packing it yet. But it will probably be mostly shoes. I find it fascintating that I am having a hard time parting with so may of my things. I have many boxes that I have packed up, of things that will be donated to charity. But, I still can't let go of some things, so I am putting them in storage. My popcorn machine, my wok, my china...Maybe one day I will send for them to be shipped to my new home. But I find myself asking, what really makes home home? Is it the things we fill it up with? Or maybe, is it the people who live in the house that make it home? I live alone, so does that mean that can I be home, wherever I am? I don't know about that. There must be something else.
I hope I don't leave it behind.
Then again, maybe it's already waiting for me in the Caribbean.