reflection
The huzband flew back to Wien this morning. He’ll be back again next weekend to help with the last bit of the clear out, but it just occured to me, that our breakfast of pancakes this morning was the last meal we will ever cook and share in the first home we purchased together. In my head, I have thoughts that I should feel more emotional about this, and I don’t feel very emotional at all. I only feel excitement and I am only looking forward. That surprises me. Because I can get very attached to things. Like shopping bags. I hoard nice paper shopping bags and loathe parting with them. But our current home? Get me out of here already! Truth be told, because I have been here on my own for the last two months and because the huzband has been living in limbo in Wien, I’m looking forward to joining him there and settling in, just in the nick of time before the new member of our family arrives. The lack of sentimentality surprises me. As I cleared our fridge of magnets and four years of postcards, I didn’t feel a smidgen of regret. As I look at blinds hanging in the window that I painstakingly stiched together on my sewing machine, I feel no regret. As I look at our nice floor coverings, I feel no regret. It’s just timber and marble and we can buy more of it for our next house purchase. It is strangely liberating, to feel absolutely no attachment to this house. It speaks volumes to me. Home is actually where S is. Home is where I live with him, where ever that may be. For the immediate future, that is in a rented apartment in Wien, with a roof terrace, to sit on and sip Austrian reisling in the summer.
