Bryan St was special because it was truly my choice. I had just been freed from a hostage like relationship (LOL). God did for me what I couldn't do for myself. It’s called a JOB TRANSFER!!! So I was free to search for me… It took me a month to find it. I canvassed the area every evening and on weekends. There was a HUGE TREE just outside my window. Birds chirped early in the morning wake me up sooner than I liked! Squirrel did their thing. There were way, way, I MEAN WAY too many quinceaneras. And the tree roaches were a bit off the chain.
BUT I loved it.
Before the move, of course I threw things away. Furniture, dishes, gifts from the ex, pictures of the ex and I, and extra stuff that I felt did not have a need. This was my moving ritual!!! I found it cleansing, empowering!
I loved my Loft/Flat in East Dallas. The Urban removal was in full fledged in Dallas before it was a spark in anyone’s eye in Austin. I lived comfortably around a multi-ethnic cultural mix of people. I could walk to the market for groceries or restaurant for lunch/dinner, ride my bike down town, jog along Swiss St, take the train, and stumble home in DRUNKENNESS from the lower Greenville Ave Clubs! Or cheap cab fare from Cedar Springs, Deep Ellum and Downtown. It was paradise. If I had not taken a job in Austin, I’d probably still live in that apartment!
My new place has the Bryan St., Boatright Cove, and Ferris St. potential. Yet it has brought up a lot of memories. As I was moving, I began searching for things. Remembering things, and looking for small mementos that let me know I had truly lived. There were missing pictures of my past loves or likes (depends on my mood).
Age has a way of reminding you who is actually in charge! I was reminded of my vulnerability. I was reminded of my time, space and place in this WORLD. Moving has taken me in many directions. While it has been solemn, at times painful, hurtful, sad, it has began to show that it is NOT FOR THE BEST! but for THE BETTERMENT of me.
I miss many of the items I deemed useless and superfluous. I miss the memories attached to them. I remembered throwing away the build a bear, Guapa (a gift from CDR) after I found her birth certificate in a box I hadn’t opened in years. My favorite Martha’s Vineyard t-shirt after seeing a picture of me wearing it. I thought about the ring and watch I threw away after CAD and I broke up. All the pictures where we were wrapped so tightly in love (I couldn’t cut myself out of the picture to keep me, and I was DAMN CUTE!) that I torn into pieces after we broke up. I thought about the pictures of me and my moped. Pictures of my days at St. Mary’s with my Chi Phi brothers, Sig Ep guy friends and countless others that would be hilarious on Facebook. Love letters. Plane tickets. Concert ticket stubs. Year books. Shoes. Jeans. T-shirts. Stuffed animals. Trinkets. Man everything.
So as I placed the emerald vase on the shelf, a plastic wrapper an Emergency God Kit with among other things an aged (at least 10 years old) piece of peppermint, my Grand's bibles, handkerchiefs, a thirty year old pocket dictionary, a crotchet blanket, a really cool burgundy blanket that really doesn't match anything in the house as well as a sticky note pad with GOD's sweetest gift along side (all gifts from my Grand) I knew like her memory, I could never part with these things. Much like not being able to erase he number from my phone log! I remembered one of the last times I was at Zerrcliff. We were going through things after her funeral. Remembering. Then I thought one day some one will have to gather my things. Scoop up what’s left of my life and throw it/ME away. Would they toss them carelessly or study them? Laugh? Cry? Remember? Take a piece of me with them? Maybe most items would have no meaning to them. Then I thought, I’ve treated the precious items and times in my life as hasty as a stranger. What do my things say? What do my friends say? Do they say I did not only love but I was loved. I had fun. I laughed. I cried. I sought. I conquered. I was defeated. I learned. I prayed. I thought? I volunteered? Gave my time? Kept my word? Was honest? Mentored? Lead? Followed? What? How would anyone know that if I continue to throw away the things that are most important? Including people?
And it was scary. It was a scary place to be. So in my new place… I vow to do the following
Not look for the next place to live.
Call it home.
Treat it like home.
Entertain friends, not PEOPLE!!
Welcome friendship
Foster love
Let G.O.D. in (BEFORE ME) each and every time I enter!!!
Also make sure he closes the door behind us!!
Savor moments.
So I don’t want any one’s feelings to be hurt, I have to treat my home as I treat myself. EVERYONE CAN’T COME INSIDE!!!
Before the move, of course I threw things away. Furniture, dishes, gifts from the ex, pictures of the ex and I, and extra stuff that I felt did not have a need. This was my moving ritual!!! I found it cleansing, empowering!
I loved my Loft/Flat in East Dallas. The Urban removal was in full fledged in Dallas before it was a spark in anyone’s eye in Austin. I lived comfortably around a multi-ethnic cultural mix of people. I could walk to the market for groceries or restaurant for lunch/dinner, ride my bike down town, jog along Swiss St, take the train, and stumble home in DRUNKENNESS from the lower Greenville Ave Clubs! Or cheap cab fare from Cedar Springs, Deep Ellum and Downtown. It was paradise. If I had not taken a job in Austin, I’d probably still live in that apartment!
My new place has the Bryan St., Boatright Cove, and Ferris St. potential. Yet it has brought up a lot of memories. As I was moving, I began searching for things. Remembering things, and looking for small mementos that let me know I had truly lived. There were missing pictures of my past loves or likes (depends on my mood).
Age has a way of reminding you who is actually in charge! I was reminded of my vulnerability. I was reminded of my time, space and place in this WORLD. Moving has taken me in many directions. While it has been solemn, at times painful, hurtful, sad, it has began to show that it is NOT FOR THE BEST! but for THE BETTERMENT of me.
I miss many of the items I deemed useless and superfluous. I miss the memories attached to them. I remembered throwing away the build a bear, Guapa (a gift from CDR) after I found her birth certificate in a box I hadn’t opened in years. My favorite Martha’s Vineyard t-shirt after seeing a picture of me wearing it. I thought about the ring and watch I threw away after CAD and I broke up. All the pictures where we were wrapped so tightly in love (I couldn’t cut myself out of the picture to keep me, and I was DAMN CUTE!) that I torn into pieces after we broke up. I thought about the pictures of me and my moped. Pictures of my days at St. Mary’s with my Chi Phi brothers, Sig Ep guy friends and countless others that would be hilarious on Facebook. Love letters. Plane tickets. Concert ticket stubs. Year books. Shoes. Jeans. T-shirts. Stuffed animals. Trinkets. Man everything.
So as I placed the emerald vase on the shelf, a plastic wrapper an Emergency God Kit with among other things an aged (at least 10 years old) piece of peppermint, my Grand's bibles, handkerchiefs, a thirty year old pocket dictionary, a crotchet blanket, a really cool burgundy blanket that really doesn't match anything in the house as well as a sticky note pad with GOD's sweetest gift along side (all gifts from my Grand) I knew like her memory, I could never part with these things. Much like not being able to erase he number from my phone log! I remembered one of the last times I was at Zerrcliff. We were going through things after her funeral. Remembering. Then I thought one day some one will have to gather my things. Scoop up what’s left of my life and throw it/ME away. Would they toss them carelessly or study them? Laugh? Cry? Remember? Take a piece of me with them? Maybe most items would have no meaning to them. Then I thought, I’ve treated the precious items and times in my life as hasty as a stranger. What do my things say? What do my friends say? Do they say I did not only love but I was loved. I had fun. I laughed. I cried. I sought. I conquered. I was defeated. I learned. I prayed. I thought? I volunteered? Gave my time? Kept my word? Was honest? Mentored? Lead? Followed? What? How would anyone know that if I continue to throw away the things that are most important? Including people?
And it was scary. It was a scary place to be. So in my new place… I vow to do the following
Not look for the next place to live.
Call it home.
Treat it like home.
Entertain friends, not PEOPLE!!
Welcome friendship
Foster love
Let G.O.D. in (BEFORE ME) each and every time I enter!!!
Also make sure he closes the door behind us!!
Savor moments.
So I don’t want any one’s feelings to be hurt, I have to treat my home as I treat myself. EVERYONE CAN’T COME INSIDE!!!
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