And the dismantling of our life in Toronto begins...

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Since Sarah and I are only days away from our moving behinds to London, it’s starting to look awfully bare in our little cozy condo. It very weird to take everything you own and determine if it:

a) comes with you (God Bless British Airways and their unusually large 70kg baggage allowance. Suddenly it looks like all the shoes might be able to come with, after all)
b) goes to storage. To be unpacked God knows when? Debates like: Will I ever have a need for this lovely white ceramic serving platter? (Why on earth did I ever need a huge white ceramic swerving platter to begin with?… to the best of my recollection I never cooked a meal for a family of 12 to necessitate such a thing…) and so on. It’s very weird to pack something of yours away and to know you may not see it again for a very very long time
c) is given away. Another surreal experience - although a very freeing one. Finding people to take things you thought were fabulous at one time is harder than you think. All of a sudden you find almost as if your own sense of taste is being evaluated. "Whadda you mean you don't want this Titanic VHS????? That movie is a CLASSIC!!!!" and so on.....

In general it’s become very clear to me just how much crap I’ve managed to acquire over the last couple of years of being an “adult”, and how very little of it will find its way into my new life. All in all it’s kind of liberating to know that I can now travel through life very lightly and be more discerning about what I choose to add back to my life, going forward. I keep thinking it’s about collecting stories and experiences and not things.

The one thing that made me very sad was taking down our little 3 year old Christmas wreath. I’d always kept it on the door, in its preserved dried state, year-round because it reminded me of the day Sonia and I made it. I’ve missed her a lot, and going out each day looking at the wreath just reminded me of all the raucous and laughs we had with her on her visit into town. I’ve been forced to take down the wreath - but took a picture of Sarah and I with it to commemorate its existence. This one is for you Son! As we continue to pack I am sure we will be faced with many more sentimental things that need to be discarded - and that’s turning out to be harder than I anticipated.

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Photos

The Christmas wreath that managed to live 3 years.
We love you Sonia! The wreath may be gone - but it is not forgotten!