Today has been a kind of tough day on the old ‘pick-up-your-life-and-move-it-abroad’ front. I’ve been sorting through the boxes in our back room, which have remained there ever since we moved in. I’m amazed they haven’t organically merged with the wall they’ve been up against it so long! Anyway, the reason I was content to leave them is because they have loads of my old stuff, that I had to move out of my Mum’s when she rented out our old house. She lives with her other half now, and between them they have 4 grown-up kids so limited room to store stuff. So most of mine has come with me. Those boxes have all sorts of stuff in them – right from childhood books, exam certificates, cards and notes from years back, old diaries … etc
So going through them has been like a huge trip down memory lane – old forgotten notes from my old school friends, that we passed in dull English lessons, all about what we’ll do later and the latest boy gossip; angsty teenage diary entries (again, mostly about boys!); my exam certificates from my GCSEs and A-Levels. But then there have been more emotional things to uncover – birthday cards and letters from my grandparents; the order of service from my granddad’s funeral; sweet notes from my Mum when I was having a tough time when I first left home.
I’ve been quite tearful going through them as I think part of me feels like I’d be leaving all that behind, all those experiences and people I’ve met who have made me who I am today. It’s just made me think a lot about my family in particular, and those who aren’t with us any more. I know these feelings are normal, and probably part and parcel when you are getting ready to leave in 10 days, but it has been a tough old day.
I’ve got to go out now for the boy’s leaving drinks, so I’m sure this is nothing a large glass of red won’t sort out!