Monday, July 30, 2012
a note on this weekend's epiphany.
there comes a time in every journey when you realize you can't back out now.
not that i want to back out, but over the weekend i had the epiphany that the next phase of my life begins in 5 short months: 5 months that will surely be busy, and fun, and exciting here, but all building up the anticipation for what 2013 has in store. i'm one to be weary of always talking with excitement about that "next thing" in life, that "next step" in the future; i talk a lot on here about being content [not complacent] and joyful in the present season. but even with that in mind, this season is a one of preparation for what is next. it has to be.
on sunday i passed on church to start phase one of sell everything. in september we're having a garage sale and i'm going to set up shop and get rid of a ton of my nice clothes, furniture, bags, lights, books, magazines, etc, etc. [barrie and surrounding area people, look out for that!] it always feels so good to get rid of stuff, and since i always enjoyed a good garage sale find (and have many treasures that once belonged to my neighbours) i look forward to someone else finding enjoyment in my once-treasure.
but even before the purge, i had been all emotional as i looked through scrapbooks from my dad and i's travels to england more than a decade ago and that same summer, my family went out east to quebec, halifax, and pei [photos above]. i cried thinking about how my parents have birthed in me and nurtured this desire to see and experience the world; they prioritized and allowed us to go many places with them, and now, i'm going off on my own, ready to show them around. i'm going to miss my favourite travel companion, my dad; the man who can keep pace with me and who, from the age of 10, has let me lead and plan where we go and what we do. i'm going to miss my chat buddy, my mom, the one who's ears i talk off when i come home every friday. [side story: every friday when i get off the bus from toronto and they are there waiting for me, i instantly feel exhausted and don't want to talk. but by the time we end up in the kitchen, i on my stool and mom plopped in a chair after she realizes i have a lot more to say, hours have passed and every story from the past week has been shared. i've also gotten into the habit now of following her around the house asking her questions and making her listen to me. haha. we're both going to miss that.]
[shoot. now i'm crying.]
i have to catch myself a lot. coz i get wanderlust envy of other people. i see they've gone or done something cool and i get all jealous. and i have to check myself and remember that i've been tons of cool places and done tons of cool things. i need to be abundantly thankful for the things i've already seen in my short life. and that's all thanks to the two who gave me life. and so when i think about going away but am torn about how much i'm going to miss my cute, golf-loving, dog-obsessed, ocd parents i just need to be thankful that they gave me the gift and desire to travel in the first place.
and really it's not limited to travel. if the place i wanted to be at was in barrie, or toronto, i would go there. they have launched me and raised me to know that i really can do anything, and that i should. and they will support me. how grateful i am for that.
but really this season is about so much more than just missing my parents. it's this huge transition and i never thought it would be so hard. when i left for university originally, it hardly phased me. then again, to put it in perspective, i came home all the time and was only an hour away. but i also had no idea that they missed me. they seemed all fine and dandy! and then my brother left, and they would always say, "allie, have you heard from phil? has he texted you? how's he doing?" fifteen times a day and then their cover was blown. they missed us. in their own secret, silent way, they were sad. and they were lonely. and that's the part that breaks my heart the most.
my neighbours ratted my parents out to me last night, saying how my parents told them that they now understand why people downsize when the kids move out: your once-a-family-home turns into a place of empty rooms and lots of vacant memories.
i guess in all this, what makes me "miss" them most is thinking about that pain. i don't want them to be sad. i know i'll be fine [and i know they'll be fine too] but i wish i could shield them from that pain.
people always ask me if i'm nervous and i guess the answer now is, ya, i really am. but i'm also so thankful. thankful for these parents who first introduced me to the journey. i can't wait for the day when i can be the one showing them around my new city.
ps: second picture in is my dad asleep on the floor in the natural history museum. he's never lived that down. and while i love to make fun of him for his ability to sleep anywhere, i'm slowly starting to see that this is something i seem to have inherited from him...