I sat down on the bed last night at 6:53 to catch the very end of News Hour on PBS....and woke up at 6:10 this morning. I think I was tired.
If Passover is about the journey from slavery into freedom, this year it will also be personal journey from care-taking to ......something else. Not a clue what that something else is, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. But it starts with a new kitchen that's already pesadik. Junior son, Ms. Junior, and Little Miss helped me affix the first mezuzah on Sunday morning. I'm ready to go.
As I write this last episode ....originally started in the study and now being finished in the kitchen, I wonder what it will be like to write it in the new house, looking out a new set of windows. Will I see things differently in a house without the the ghost of most of my adult life? In pitching so much of its ephemera, it was like losing Ziggy all over again. I cried, I tossed, I had You've Got Junk three times...all in an effort to pare down my life into something manageable. I'm close, but not there yet.
Since this is Tuesday morning, not Monday night, I will get there tomorrow. The moving van cometh at 8:30. While it's taking the billion boxes of books and the furniture, Cousin Laurie and my friend Bill have been helping me move the other stuff, lovingly tossed into baskets and bins to be immediately off-loaded in the house....including the endless stream of crystal. It's all in the new house waiting for the china closet to come over.
Since the house is not yet sold, there is more stuff to bring by hand....like my regular kitchen stuff, and it will come after Pesach. But come over it will.
The departure from Egypt lasted for 40 years until all the old slaves were gone and an entirely new generation born into freedom could return to the land of Israel. Moses could see it, but he could not enter. It was not for him. In a odd way, that mirrors one piece of this journey for me. Mom was to come to the first night Seder at Cousin Laurie's house. And I'd promised I would bring her to the new house on Sunday. For the last month or so, Mom poured over the pictures, we talked endlessly about what would go where and whether or not the dining room set would come with me. In the end, sadly, she was only able to look.
Even though none of them, not Ziggy, nor FIL, nor my folks will ever see the new place, I will have them in my heart.
If Passover is about the journey from slavery into freedom, this year it will also be personal journey from care-taking to ......something else. Not a clue what that something else is, but I'm sure I'll figure it out. But it starts with a new kitchen that's already pesadik. Junior son, Ms. Junior, and Little Miss helped me affix the first mezuzah on Sunday morning. I'm ready to go.
As I write this last episode ....originally started in the study and now being finished in the kitchen, I wonder what it will be like to write it in the new house, looking out a new set of windows. Will I see things differently in a house without the the ghost of most of my adult life? In pitching so much of its ephemera, it was like losing Ziggy all over again. I cried, I tossed, I had You've Got Junk three times...all in an effort to pare down my life into something manageable. I'm close, but not there yet.Since this is Tuesday morning, not Monday night, I will get there tomorrow. The moving van cometh at 8:30. While it's taking the billion boxes of books and the furniture, Cousin Laurie and my friend Bill have been helping me move the other stuff, lovingly tossed into baskets and bins to be immediately off-loaded in the house....including the endless stream of crystal. It's all in the new house waiting for the china closet to come over.
Since the house is not yet sold, there is more stuff to bring by hand....like my regular kitchen stuff, and it will come after Pesach. But come over it will.
The departure from Egypt lasted for 40 years until all the old slaves were gone and an entirely new generation born into freedom could return to the land of Israel. Moses could see it, but he could not enter. It was not for him. In a odd way, that mirrors one piece of this journey for me. Mom was to come to the first night Seder at Cousin Laurie's house. And I'd promised I would bring her to the new house on Sunday. For the last month or so, Mom poured over the pictures, we talked endlessly about what would go where and whether or not the dining room set would come with me. In the end, sadly, she was only able to look.
Even though none of them, not Ziggy, nor FIL, nor my folks will ever see the new place, I will have them in my heart.
Wifely Person's Tip o'the Day
Always try to move right before Pesach, then you only have to pack the kitchen once.
Good tip, WP... my "X" moved once right before Pesach -- only problem was she didn't take me with her.
ReplyDeleteI am going to thoroughly enjoy having you as a neighbor!
ReplyDelete