Today was spent frantically packing. I had friends (bless them!), helping and we were able to get just about most of my belongings into a few boxes. There are some odds and ends that I’m looking around at and thinking to myself, “Oy veh!” But, at least, thanks to the help of my dear sister and friends, I will be out and on time.
I’m sitting in my favorite arm chair as I write this, looking around and can’t help to think about how much I will miss my little apartment. I’m not going to miss the water instantly going to freezing cold every time one of my neighbors flush, nor am I going to miss not having a garbage disposal. But I did a lot of mourning in this litlle place and was able to come ‘into my own’. It was a phase of my life and I guess I’m to move onto the next. Still, with the shedding of this layer (as with any change) there is a bit of bitter/sweetness that comes with it.
I have an emptiness in the pit of my stomach that I can’t seem to fill. I don’t quite know where it comes from and I’m not sure if it is the fear of the unknown or the simple fact that I hate change (perhaps both). Either way, there is a quote (author wasn’t mentioned)that comes to mind and it reads:
To reach up for the new,
you must let go of the old.
What lies behind you is not
nearly as important as what
lies in front of you.
There has been quite a bit thrown at me lately and all I can do is move forward and I must remember that I have the talents and the brain God gave me. It was a conversation that I had with my brother that brought it home. He said to hold onto those things that are real. For instance: the way an audience responds when I sing, or the way my niece and nephew felt during one of our infamous camping/fishing trips. Laughing with my sister when watching one of our favorite comedies; so hard we would be on the verge of tears. Those are the things to hold onto; those are real.
I have a great many wonderful memories in this little apartment, and some sad. One thing I can say is that I did make it. No eviction notices came to my door. The power was never turned off and my bills were paid on time (whew!). At least I have the satisfaction of knowing I can do it, once I am in a position that is.
Of course the question always haunts me, and presumably will I suspect, of where will I go from here? What, oh what, is behind Door #3? Only God has that answer. All I can do is take the walk down the Yellow Brick Road, one step at a time.