I'm sure you may know by now, either through the grapevine or because we've had a direct conversation, or because I alluded to the possibility so strongly before we officially Made The Decision, but ETD Cayman Islands?
16 Days.
Please Let Me Emphatically Capitalize Words For Just One More Moment:
SIXTEEN DAYS.
Given an allotted shipping space of 120 cubic feet and the limited storage capacity available here at home, we now have to ruthlessly purge our worldly possessions. Can we bring furniture? NO. Can we bring ... books? NO. Sentimental home decor items? Definitely NO. Can we store all of these things in Mum and Robert's barn? Probably not.
So, our everything is for sale. Most of the things that've surrounded us for years, we're letting them all go. And I know it's just stuff, but it's our stuff, and I've managed to haul most of it around for the last twelve years, packing and unpacking it all over and over again so we could set up "home" wherever we ended up.
I like my curtains. And popcorn popper. And laundry hampers and framed artwork and books and handmade linen chest. I like my beat up old couch. I LOVE MY BED. I really really really like my t-shirt sheets and double feather duvets.
But I guess we don't really have a lot of things when compared to people who've already settled into a house. We've been pretty transient this last decade, and have only slightly moved beyond living like students. I mean, come on -- Sears has been the height of our brand name aspirations. But even so, the sheer quantity of our belongings still seems rather insurmountable, given our time frame of relinquishment and unwillingness to imagine starting all over again when we move back to Canada sometime in the future.
Coming back to nothing is scary. But I think the more frightening prospect is having to buy new everything when we return, which will ultimately close off the chapter of our lives we've lived up until now, the one that's been illustrated by all the worldly goods we currently own.
Take the arm of our couch for example: shredded by Mowgli when she was young(er) and spry(er?). It's kind of nice having that reminder around now that she's gone.
Or the dining room table, bearing all the marks of a fulfilling half-decade of crafting.
Innis's snowsuit, winter boots, and raccoon hat? He won't be wearing those again, and neither will his (potential) future sibling, because we'll be living in crazy hotness twelve months of the year (ok, so I'm not totally complaining about that).
But, such is life, I think. It's about change and growth and renewal. And at the end of the day, it is just stuff, and we can still carry the important memories without lugging the physical reminders around the world with us like gypsies.
Right?
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