Monday, 8 September 2008

A Beautiful Refuge

A place to dance, a place to sleep,
A place to laugh, a place to weep.

A house to make, a house to love,
A garden to go and look up at the skies above.

A home to care for, a home to respect,
A home to die for, a home to reflect.

In sacred walls, sweet blessed home,
In our refuge, we shall never be alone.


Wednesday, 3 September 2008


After a string of tiredsome days and nights, I sit here in bed, laptop on hand and propped up with pillows unable to find a way to get myself into that semi -relaxed state which quickly turns itself into sleep. A dramatic contrast indeed, yet I can not help but feel prominantly confused.

I can't quite put a finger on the emotions I am feeling right now. Although, something Ross said to me today was quite close to the mark when he said "the house has lost its personality now everything is packed" as he said that I thought about the bare walls, empty wardrobes and dusty surfaces where wedding photos once proudly stood, Then, with tears in my eyes it hit me very hard that Ross and I were to leave our first marital home -the home with so many profound and character building moments, the place holding so many sacred and wonderful memories. Suddenly this sanctity, this refuge as such has been stripped bare and stands naked in the midst as if no one had ever lived there.

My mind casts me back to the day of our wedding. Ross and I hurried back to the coach house to pick up our clothes for the honeymoon and prepared to go to the temple. I remember feeling giddy and light - the floor laden with confetti (which we continued to find in various places until just recently) I remember going into the back room, in my poofy white wedding gown - Ross giving me a loving kiss and murming something about me being his wife, despite all that, I promptly ordered him out of the room while I got out of my dress and into some more sensible attire for the journey. My goodness, Ross was so happy that day. So was I.

So many happy memories. Play Grand Turismo on the PS2 after Ross got home from work. snuggling on the sofa and watching movies on the ridiculously large TV screen. Having dinner parties, family over for fun and games. Letting people stay over for a night. Unpacking the last box. Relishing the picture of Ross' shoes next to mine near the front door and knowing how wonderful that was to know you are never to be alone again.

Now our beautiful things are all packed up and nothing but bare furniture and cupboards are left to see. The house, it feels, has lost it's magical touch. It suddenly strikes me that I feel like I am living in an empty shell and subsequently feel like one too.

It might be hormones, it might be the stress of change, but I feel myself feeling an emotion I'm not too unfamiliar with. Like the Christmas' where you've finished eating and opening presents and you're sat up your room all alone and struck by the thought that at the end of the day, you are having to face change and the only person you can count on not losing is yourself.

which leads me to wonder, what would happen if one should lose oneself?

The terrible limbo stage between living in one place and living in another can result in sleepless nights, doubt, anxiety and confusion. Should I really move? Will we be as happy in this new house? Or is everything going to change?

Such fears and thoughts are currently plaguing my mind tonight. And whilst I know that by the time anyone reads these words or sees me again and asks me how I am, I know the answer will be a resounding "yes" because after all, it seems that first we go through tough moments alone and have to feel the pain and go through it before actually feeling that shoulder to cry on. Perhaps it is a test of our individual strength of character?

Perhaps I am having real pre-moving house jitters. Or maybe it's just hormones. Whatever it is, I hope I get my act together soon. I am beginning to feel reclusive.

*sigh* Good night I suppose.