How do you say goodbye to a place you’ve called home for six years?
I found myself battling different emotions as I collected my belongings and those of my family from our little home in Stanford, California. A big part of me looked forward to our return to Saudi Arabia, for it had been two years since we lasted visited. Another part of me was already beginning to miss a place I hadn’t yet left, and the remaining part struggled with decisions of what to keep and what to get rid of. How do you decide what’s memorabilia to hold on to, and what’s merely a physical object that you can discard to save space, and cherish the memory of it in your heart?
It’s surprising how much can accumulate in a small space given enough time. Although I’d gotten better at minimizing as I previously wrote in this post, there was still a surprising amount of stuff in our storage to go through. That process was often productive but occasionally not, as I kept getting distracted by things I’d tucked away for years. I lingered on my son’s daycare pictures and artwork, on greeting cards from friends and family in different occasions, and old notes and writings that I’d forgotten about. But in general, packing was a therapeutic process. The act of donating and selling our stuff felt freeing. What remained were only the essentials.
Periods of changes are hard, even when the change is a pleasant one. As our home became empty, I felt the sense of familiarity slip away and create a void of uncertainty. Sometimes, this void was big and intimidating. But if 2020 had taught me anything, it was to accept that we cannot escape uncertainty, but with time, we can learn to tolerate it.
Perhaps it was fitting that we left Stanford during the Winter, with the branches bare and dry, and the grass just beginning to grow after winter rainfall. The seasonality of nature mirrored that of my life, and it was the perfect reminder of impermanence.
We left our home in the afternoon of January 17, 2021. It saddens me to leave the place I’d called home for six years. We moved to Stanford exactly three weeks after our wedding, and everything about our family life unfolded there. Up until the day we left, the business of packing had interfered with my ability to tap into my emotions. But when I took one last walk around our home, with the absence of all our belongings and any signs that we once lived there, I felt a knot form in my throat. It was only a matter of time before a new family moved into that place and called it their home.
We existed the front door, took a selfie with our house number, and glanced at our home one final time before we boarded the car, heading to our new lives.