Older, but no wiser
Andy Borrows' musings on life and all its confusion, contradictions, richness and opportunities
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Ch-ch-ch-changes (1)
Rather a lot of change, all coming at once. All good, yet each one a major landmark in life; with them all coming on top of each other it could be overwhelming were we not so busy with the effects of it all.
Son number one moved out last weekend. Packed all his worldly goods into the back of a hired van, and off he went. He’s renting a flat with his girlfriend in Sevenoaks; with no doubt now that UK house prices are tumbling, I’m sure he’s made the right choice to rent rather than buy – the last few months have seen more value wiped off the price of somewhere he might buy than he’ll be paying in rent for a year.
It felt as though it should have been more of an occasion, that there should have been something special to mark the moment. “Twenty three years this has been my room…”; looking over the relics left behind, his voice tailed off as he left any further thoughts unsaid. Endings and new beginnings; you can’t have the latter without the former. It’s almost like grieving a loss. He was four when we moved into this house; I well remember moving day – tucking him and his two year old brother into their beds that first night, the room made as welcoming as possible amidst all the turmoil.
His shadow still remains for a while – army kit in the cupboard until he transfers to another TA unit; motorcycle in the garage – there wasn’t time in all the to-ing and fro-ing at the weekend to get that down there as well; the less tangible reminders such as the dents in the carpet where his bed stood.
An echo remains, but over time that will fade. In its place though we’ll build a new connection. The family as closely bound as ever, just spanning a greater space – that surely must be a form of growth.
Son number one moved out last weekend. Packed all his worldly goods into the back of a hired van, and off he went. He’s renting a flat with his girlfriend in Sevenoaks; with no doubt now that UK house prices are tumbling, I’m sure he’s made the right choice to rent rather than buy – the last few months have seen more value wiped off the price of somewhere he might buy than he’ll be paying in rent for a year.
It felt as though it should have been more of an occasion, that there should have been something special to mark the moment. “Twenty three years this has been my room…”; looking over the relics left behind, his voice tailed off as he left any further thoughts unsaid. Endings and new beginnings; you can’t have the latter without the former. It’s almost like grieving a loss. He was four when we moved into this house; I well remember moving day – tucking him and his two year old brother into their beds that first night, the room made as welcoming as possible amidst all the turmoil.
His shadow still remains for a while – army kit in the cupboard until he transfers to another TA unit; motorcycle in the garage – there wasn’t time in all the to-ing and fro-ing at the weekend to get that down there as well; the less tangible reminders such as the dents in the carpet where his bed stood.
An echo remains, but over time that will fade. In its place though we’ll build a new connection. The family as closely bound as ever, just spanning a greater space – that surely must be a form of growth.
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