At Home, for Now
Home is where the heart is, according to the saying, but I'm not even sure where my heart is these days.
Over the last few weeks, we've been emptying our drawers, cabinets and walls of all things personal. The photos are gone, our ketubah is off the wall, our drawers are more than half empty and home is starting to feel less and less like home. As we've begun packing up our possessions, we are reminded how life is less about things and more about memories, experiences and the people around us. As box after box gets loaded into the car, driven to Delaware and stowed away in my parents' crawl space, it's clear that we are distancing ourselves from our life here in Washington to create and build a new life for ourselves in St. Petersburg. Home will soon be somewhere else, somewhere far away where only my imagination can devine. But my heart still isn't quite there -- I have my fair share of worries and doubts, for sure. We found out today that an apartment has been secured for us, which effectively eliminates one of my primary worries. It is located in historical center of the city in Petrogradsky District, but that's all we know. (More details to come once we've laid eyes on the place.)
As I wrap up my last week at work and pack up the house, I have to admit that I've been overcome by a tinge of sadness. I am most saddened by the idea of missing out on all of the joys we are leaving behind: Close friends of ours are expecting their first child in January. Matt's cousin Arielle is getting married in May. And these are just the simchas we know about now; certainly, we are going to miss more than a few life cycle events. I know that our adventure will bring new joys to our lives, but I am just a tad bit wistful, leaving our friends, family and community behind. The next few weeks will be the hardest, well, at least until I have to brave my first Russian snowstorm. If only my pink parka could shield me from the homesickness as easily as it will from the snow and rain!
Over the last few weeks, we've been emptying our drawers, cabinets and walls of all things personal. The photos are gone, our ketubah is off the wall, our drawers are more than half empty and home is starting to feel less and less like home. As we've begun packing up our possessions, we are reminded how life is less about things and more about memories, experiences and the people around us. As box after box gets loaded into the car, driven to Delaware and stowed away in my parents' crawl space, it's clear that we are distancing ourselves from our life here in Washington to create and build a new life for ourselves in St. Petersburg. Home will soon be somewhere else, somewhere far away where only my imagination can devine. But my heart still isn't quite there -- I have my fair share of worries and doubts, for sure. We found out today that an apartment has been secured for us, which effectively eliminates one of my primary worries. It is located in historical center of the city in Petrogradsky District, but that's all we know. (More details to come once we've laid eyes on the place.)
As I wrap up my last week at work and pack up the house, I have to admit that I've been overcome by a tinge of sadness. I am most saddened by the idea of missing out on all of the joys we are leaving behind: Close friends of ours are expecting their first child in January. Matt's cousin Arielle is getting married in May. And these are just the simchas we know about now; certainly, we are going to miss more than a few life cycle events. I know that our adventure will bring new joys to our lives, but I am just a tad bit wistful, leaving our friends, family and community behind. The next few weeks will be the hardest, well, at least until I have to brave my first Russian snowstorm. If only my pink parka could shield me from the homesickness as easily as it will from the snow and rain!
posted by Alyson Fieldman at 12:56 AM
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