The Unbearable Lightness of Moving
We’ve been in our new apartment for eight days.
It’s a local move, just to the adjacent neighborhood called Mile End. The apartment is lovely for many reasons but mainly we were drawn to her light.
If you would have told me I’d be moving again in less than two years since arriving in Montreal, I would have slapped you across the face and pushed you in the St. Lawrence river. But you were right and I’m sorry. Since this is a move initiated by mutual desire rather than career trajectory, it feels kinder and gentler, and that had made all the difference. We wanted more light for the Montreal winters and we wanted less space for economy and we managed to get both! And here we are, eight days later.
I have gotten very good at moving but truthfully, I would prefer to hone this skill less often. I was thinking the other day while figuring out new … everything – appliances, key code systems, biking paths – that I’ll probably live forever. This constant adaptation to new environments and experiences is what keeps the brain sharp; “You may be old but you’ll be able to Snapchat with your teenagers!” is what I keep telling myself because I know that’s a thing. “Just keep going!” The idea offered solace as I cried over there being no outlets on that one wall and how I might never find my obnoxiously specific brand of chocolate now.
This is the third move for my three-year-old and the fourth for my six-year-old and I worry about that. My role as their Constant never shifts though, so I try and keep the crazy – and tears – in check. I must be doing something right because my children are happy surrounded by new walls that embrace their old things.
I’m so grateful for the foundation we built in this ever-changing address we share. I have faith that no matter where, I will always be their home, and they will always be the light within me.