Camille freaked out a bit by the emptiness of the shelves and the growing pile of boxes. "It makes me nervous." she said. I knew it would and have struggled to come up with a may to make it easier on her. Of all the kids, I worry the most about the move's effect on Camille. She is so sensitive to change. The promise of a dog eases some of her worries but I don't think anything will completely evaluate them, and now she has to deal with constant reminders that we are indeed picking up and moving away.
And it is a bit disconcerting to see our book shelves empty. H swears he can already hear the echo of empty space.There are piles of things that need to be taken to recycling or the used book store. There are clothes that need to be dropped off at Goodwill. And there are now boxes of the things we love that will make the journey with us to our new home.
As I sorted through books the other day, I remember how long ago I blogged about how our book shelves speak to people. Not just the books we have but how they are presented. As I put books into the "not coming with us pile," I found myself thinking that this act was even more indicative of the face I wish to present to the world. I realized that one reason it was hard to let go of the religious studies book was that I am not quite ready to let go of that identity. These books tell people who come into my home something about myself and my past. I am not ready to fill those spaces with anything new.
Tomorrow we go to my mom's for grilling, but I hope to go through clothes. I wonder if this act will be quite as poignant as going through books.