Monday 21 October 2013

The "good" in goodbye

Sniff sniff.
Pardon the pretty personal post (and excessive alliteration, it seems), but today is kind of a big deal for my Mama's side of the family; me Geordie half like. Nanna Maureen's house, the spot synonymous with my time spent on Geordie shores during my two and a bit decades has, after over 43 years, been sold. And today is moving day. OHMYGAAAD. I totally realise that to outsiders this must seem incredibly inconsequential and slightly sentimental, but to us guys it's an emotionally equivocal and, put simply, weird day. So I can't not post about it.

Landing life, 1993.
Cozens cousins love started here.
+ 11 years -->

Me, Emily, +  the "little house" (shed) I got when I turned two.
In the run up to this (much anticipated) point, I've been figuratively describing Nanna as "the Alton Towers of emotional rollercoasters" (hey Maureen), but I'd be pullin' a Pinocchio to say that I wasn't myself feeling a-little-bit-a-lot raro today. Ya see, this house is just - special. Yeah, it's aesthetically lovely, has an amazing garden etc., but it goes waaay deeper than that. The house has memories virtually oozing from the floorboards, practically seeping out of the ceilings. Siblet and I have always lived in London and been SE kids, but always - ALWAYS - woken up on Christmas morning in this house. And so has my Ma; since she was seven. It's little things like that. Christmas 2013, for instance, will be unprecedented.

Over four decades of accumulated clutter, photos, documents, books, clothes (HOW many scarves have you bought over the years Maureen?!), records, accessories, baggage (literal and emotional) have been bagged, skipped, chucked, gifted and charity-shopped. No mean feat, I tell ya. So today is one of those days when I *wish* teleportation was a thing. Because being nearly 1000 miles away in Spain while my entire fam are involved in this very tangible transition feels, well, a bit wrong. 

Nanna, me, + her soon-to-be new "garden", ca. 1996.
Despite this cathartic little mourn, though, it really ain't all bad; it's time! Nanna's still a super sprightly seventy (she started young), but the house really is much too big for one person. And it'll only get harder to leave. Excuse me for comin' over all spiritual, but I truly believe that there's something good in every day, and today that good comes in the form of a goodbye. Because, as hard as it is (and will be) while the idea materialises, change is ultimately a very, very good thing. It enables growth, reflection, and the ability to move on to fresh and above all exciting things. Plus to every goodbye there's always a hello. In Nanna's case, a shiny new house sat right on the beach. 

Let's go to the beach, each

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