packers came today and put all of the possessions my family will keep into a container, soon to brave the wild tsunami-threatened oceans for sri lanka. moving day is always strange for me. i realised today that i have more attachment to the things that make up our home than the home itself. a carved african table, inlaid shelves from pakistan, an artisan carved dollhouse (or muppet house as the french movers called it) from india, batik wall-hangings from sri lanka. these were the things that gave my life a sort of consistency, and today was the last day that these things would be a part of a house i once considered home. for a time, anyway. the next time i see them will be in sri lanka, a house i will visit with my husband. but a place that i will probably never consider home, save for the objects that have followed my family and i during 27+ years of this life journey.
tonight i will sleep in my sisters room as it is warmer and it has carpeting. the temperature is freezing outside, it is may 10 and it may snow tonight. my old room in this house in thoiry is yellow and has a beautiful view of the valley leading to geneva, so good a view the lake geneva fountain is visible. i used to sit at my altar below the window and bathe in the light of the full moon, so bright here in the mountains one could almost read by it. i loved watching it snow. in the dead of winter the snow would collect on the barn roof across from my window and the most glorious light would reflect into my yellow room. snow light, the colors of a soap bubble all at once. in the summer i would sit with a beer on my window seat and write in my journal. i would look out across the valley and wonder if i would ever find love, what i would do with my life. it was there i began my work at the UN, all of my writings. from that window and that room.
but tonight i sleep in my sister’s room because it seems my view of geneva is not looking forward, it is looking back. it is looking back at the choices i have made that have lead me to where i am now, and memories of so much pain that came before the happiness i feel at having found my true love and having been so blessed to marry him already. my room is empty, and cold. there is a strange echo without all of my things inside.
i take peace in the fact that now i have a new home, with my husband. he is earth to my water; we will help each other give a new shape to our lives. i am so thankful. thankful to have been able to support my parents during this difficult time. thankful to have spent some truly quality time with both my father and mother. thankful to be moving foward.