I packed some books today and that can only mean thing – I must be moving again. Over the years, with each move, I’ve whittled my book collection down to my most treasured along with a few of my father’s treasures. I miss him dearly. Representing his most valuable lessons are an Oceanography textbook, Bill Cosby’s Fatherhood which I gave him and an old copy of Origin of the Species – unlimited education, a sense of humor and a great love of science.
Back to moving. Interesting to me that I’ve been trying to think about how I feel regarding moving. Not really in any place to actually FEEL it and, to be honest, after all the moves I’ve made, not sure I will ever be in a place to feel it until I know for sure that I never have to move again! In the meantime, I’ll go with the flow because, basically, I am still strong enough…and I have no other choice. I am grateful that this past move has been such a positive one for my kids – although they have always been first and foremost in any decision.
The books, though. What they represent is stability, the cherished bits and pieces of my past. When they are in my bookcase, I am healed; I am home – my childhood home with books in every corner – and then every place I’ve ever lived. I imagine that we all have something that speaks the word “home” to us, even if we’ve lived in the same house for much of our lives.
The things that bring you comfort are precious. So is any moment that you are able to feel at home and at peace. Don’t ever release the healing power of those symbols…even if you can only hold them in your mind.
morgueFile photo "SDRandCo"