My earliest waking memory is a meltdown over a move. I’m in my parents’ bedroom of their house in Tenleytown, where we've just moved from an apartment building called the Cairo in anticipation of my brother’s arrival. It’s dark out, and I ask when we’re going home. My parents explain we’re not going back to the apartment because this is our home now, and I completely lose it. One of them hands me my special pillow, and I hurl it across the room, aware even through my tantrum that this is out of bounds, but I’m inconsolable. At some point I fall asleep and wake up as a new person in a new house, just as my 2-year-old self feared, although I wouldn’t have the language to express that until decades later, after reading Proust.
So much of this resonates with me. I have a current Seattle friend who rents out her DC Cairo apartment - did you that building initiated the height restrictions for residential buildings (it is the tallest). What an amazing place to start your “mornings”. Brilliant you can remember your pre-verbal fascination with light. I, of course and SO glad your parents moved to Tenleytown! And yes, pretty spoiled by Suburban spacing, walking distance from the Metro!
I had similar heart tug when we moved from our first house to our current house when my daughter was 5. She repeatedly cried “I want to go HOME” at bedtime. Rationalizing about the new friend she made next door, the luscious yard to play in, etc etc did not quell the displacement and yearning for familiarity. And it would stab me at my center, wondering DID we make the right move? How do we make THIS home? Music and cooking good smells helps. And finding how and where the light dances in the new space. Xoxo
I totally feel this. We moved when I was going into 6th grade. It was during a time of so much transition and change, not for the good. It was tough. I felt like I’d lost my “old” life. Even going back, I remembered people but every time they didn’t remember me it felt as if I’d never been important to them.
As an adult, I’ve had really good job opportunities that would have required us to move. I just can’t make myself do it. B is almost 14 and I’m trying to spare him that turmoil. It’s interesting what we can’t fathom doing because it was done to us.
I love reading your writing. I’m glad that you’ve found a house to call home to raise your kiddos. Hugs
So much of this resonates with me. I have a current Seattle friend who rents out her DC Cairo apartment - did you that building initiated the height restrictions for residential buildings (it is the tallest). What an amazing place to start your “mornings”. Brilliant you can remember your pre-verbal fascination with light. I, of course and SO glad your parents moved to Tenleytown! And yes, pretty spoiled by Suburban spacing, walking distance from the Metro!
I had similar heart tug when we moved from our first house to our current house when my daughter was 5. She repeatedly cried “I want to go HOME” at bedtime. Rationalizing about the new friend she made next door, the luscious yard to play in, etc etc did not quell the displacement and yearning for familiarity. And it would stab me at my center, wondering DID we make the right move? How do we make THIS home? Music and cooking good smells helps. And finding how and where the light dances in the new space. Xoxo
I totally feel this. We moved when I was going into 6th grade. It was during a time of so much transition and change, not for the good. It was tough. I felt like I’d lost my “old” life. Even going back, I remembered people but every time they didn’t remember me it felt as if I’d never been important to them.
As an adult, I’ve had really good job opportunities that would have required us to move. I just can’t make myself do it. B is almost 14 and I’m trying to spare him that turmoil. It’s interesting what we can’t fathom doing because it was done to us.
I love reading your writing. I’m glad that you’ve found a house to call home to raise your kiddos. Hugs