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Packing house in Siberia

This is what I would like to be doing right now. Beats
trying to pack up and move a family of three, while living in the big sauna that
is Vienna these days. For some reason, air conditioning never caught on here. As
the thermometer rises, yet again, above my liveability threshold of 30 degrees
Celsius and sweat is dripping down my forehead, while I am closing and labelling
the last box, I am dreaming of sandy beaches, ice-cold cocktails and, yes, air conditioning.
Moving is a surreal experience. Watching all the
things that make up our life here disappear from around us one by one with
every day that passes feels strange – to say the least. Every day we
learned to live with less: today it’s the couch; tomorrow the cupboards; oops,
our beds are gone. It’s the first move that takes so long (we have so much
stuff, that it requires four days, four professional movers and myself, all working
full-time), which I guess allows us more time to “digest” what is happening.
It is not as bad as I thought it would be. I was
expecting to be devastated by the physical move and I am not. One reason is
that it is not the apartment that makes home for me – it is everyone and everything in it. Once all that is gone, there is nothing keeping me there. More
than the physical space where we lived, I am going to miss our neighbourhood – my
neighbours; the people I interacted with on a daily basis at the shops, the
post office, the cafés; the familiar faces on the playground. I’m going to miss
feeling part of a community. Isn’t it ironic that I would come to appreciate
the “smallness” of Vienna – one of the things that bothered me the most when I
moved here.
Also, I was expecting the children to be disturbed or
at least disoriented. From what I can tell, that has not happened either. They
seem to be easy going, relaxed, even cheerful. Even the tiniest one did not
seem disturbed that his bed and his toys suddenly vanished. In fact, the three of them have been having fun discovering all sorts of little “treasures” – things that
they have been looking for, for years – that have emerged from behind different
pieces of furniture J.
So it’s done now. There is nothing left in our
apartment but dust – a lot of it. This morning I walked through it, hearing my
voice echoing against the empty walls and thinking back to how I felt
seven-and-half years ago when we moved in; how much my life has changed since
then. I was proud of myself, even a bit surprised that I didn’t get emotional while
doing that. Well. As I am sitting, probably for the last time, at “my” corner
café, writing these lines, suddenly I have to put on my sunglasses. “It” is
catching up with me. Phew, I’m normal after all.
If you are among those who passed by me today,
sitting here, and said hello and wondered about my red nose and wet cheeks, do
not worry. I’m OK; just dealing with something long overdue.
How do you feel about moves – the actual process of
packing up your belongings? Do you get emotional?

2 Comments

  1. In fact your creative writing abilities have inspired me to start my own blog now. Really blogging is spreading its wings rapidly. Your write up is a fine example of it.

    1. Thank you! I'm happy you liked the blog – and good luck with starting your own!

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