once upon a time
we understood our few needs
and packed smaller bags.
I rarely peruse the photographs of what our possessions looked like stacked and piled in our California townhouse; that home belongs to someone else now, and the pain of looking at the bamboo flooring we so carefully chose and helped to lay – well. It tugs. I look, instead, at the snaps of the piles of stuff post-shipping, of our bewildered expressions, after living without these possessions for three months, as to how we could now live with them. We sorted and began the pare down, that next move. And the move after. And the move after. And now, we’re packing up things to ship them stateside again… (no destination but a storage facility) and we have so, so little left.
It feels like we’ve almost broken free…