Goodbye old friend.

All of last month there has been a flutter in my stomach. I have been cleaning sorting , packing , giving away, secretly dreading the day when we move. And here it is upon us. I have complained often how much work packing is, but why oh why is it really so shockingly easy to dismantle this entire life and stow it away .


The dust you hold, old friend is all ours in this moment, short-lived. My babies have left marks on your walls, shaken wildly your  creaky doors. You have seen us bare, in body and in mind, seen us make love , seen us fight. You have held our secrets, contained our anger, spread our joy. You did not seem to mind our moaning your lack of space. I wonder if there really were a lack, you made space for my growing belly, for a new baby and bassinets and high chairs and cots and for all the thousands of crafts we made. You held us up these five years in the most unsightly desperate moments and kept us from falling out of giddy excitement.

You know more than I, of times that have gone by.You know I am a fool. Hold me up for now, old friend. Till new residents take you from me, till someone else looks out my window tomorrow and you are freshly painted. The children are excited, yet they ask , ” Mamma then who will live here?” .” Are we never coming back here?” All happiness must be tinged, dear friend. I know that now.

I’ll hold you, dear friend. I wouldn’t forget. It will be hard to look back at you and not think of you as our own little corner,to have not the sight of your trees in the balcony. You are already looking away from me, distancing yourself like the good friend you are. Pushing me out, pushing me forward, I know you. I won’t be back but you ll stay. Here and in our memories. In old photos that will pop up time and again. When the children will talk, you know they will. We will. I have got to go make another home, so babies can not feel much pain. They are tiny for it. Send me with some of your rusty , swaying  third floor strength, friend.


May you know more life, more lovers’ sighs. May they tend you well. Farewell.

You have been our home and will.

From the bundle of boxes that I am until on this earth I be.



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