The economic downturn has upended many lives. Ours included.
Many people endure far more challenging adjustments than the separation from a building. But pain is relative and each experience should be honored without comparison. I tell myself this because I sometimes feel it is wrong to dwell on this experience, of selling our Home. I need to remind myself at those moments that it is okay to feel devastated and floorless and lost, to a certain degree.
I waver from day-to-day between degrees of acceptance and remorse. And bitterness. And resentment. Sometimes my mood feels like it is creeping toward depression, even. I resist that place as I know it firsthand and it is not a process I want to experience again.
Our daughters are being brave. The younger one is having a harder time, naturally. She misses the rooms. We sold a beautiful, large home with many magical aspects, special touches we added over our many years there, aspects that were personal that provided shape and texture to her childhood. She is still a child--only 10--and she misses the only Home she ever knew deeply.
Long-term unemployment forced our hand, however we sold at a profit. Many families have not been so lucky. We are living temporarily in a 2 bedroom apartment that is very nice. We lived for 14 years in a 3 story house with 15 rooms and a backyard; the adjustment is significant. We all parted with more than 1/2 of our belongings that mattered to us. This is not such a tragedy, in life we tend to gather more stuff than we need. It is not the items we miss, it is the sense of Home; the rooms where we celebrated birthdays and holidays. The stairs we ran up and down; the yard we re-shaped dozens of times over the seasons.
Writing about this event and the attending grief makes it sound trivial. And I thought the opposite would happen. I thought it would help me to feel better, to describe how much of a failure I feel like; that I was not able to keep from having to part with something that was so meaningful to all of us. I thought it would feel good to admit that I cry deeply, and often, pining to walk through the rooms I carefully designed and appointed.
We still have not found jobs and we are living just a few blocks away from our beloved house...the house that is not ours anymore so I should begin this process by not referring to it as 'our' house anymore. We live just about 8 blocks or so from the house we sold that was our Home. Which means I have to see it or be near it regularly enough for me to feel worse perhaps than I would if we were not near it. I don't know. I am feeling unclear about many things.
I am deeply sad and I feel lost, mainly. But we need to provide structure and calm and direction for our girls so I have to put a good face on all of this and I am trying. It does not always come-off though and they are beautiful sols who reach out to tell me, 'It is ok Momma if you feel bad. We understand.'