A friend helped us move to the Brady House. We are at the hotel for one more night and have one more load in the morning but essentially we are moved.We are entering a new phase of life after loosing our home to wildfire. These are totally uncharted waters for us.
The new place looks like a rustic 1970s ski lodge and I am having trouble seeing beyond that. I paced around in distress trying to figure out how to be us there. It struck me to concentrate on an island. I rummaged through boxes to set the table with our things. I put my HUGE new Boos cutting board on the counter along with my All Clad spoon jar and my new knife brick. Not a lot can fight with a huge Boos board when it teams up with All Clad spatulas and a whole block full of Henkel knives. I put a bundle of lavender for remembrance that my sister brought us right after the fire. I left it on the counter with our things. I wanted the counter to remember us.
The way to town is the same as it was, just a few miles closer. Each turn has been learned and remembered for 13 years now. As we were driving along I was suddenly hit by a strong feeling that this was all wrong. We needed to go to our home. We knew these these moments would come;the ones when you cannot remember or even grasp the concept that our old house was gone. We had guessed this would get strong when we moved from the hotel to a house that was not ours. Somehow being tucked away in the hotel insulated us from understanding that we were not homeowners. Our home burned.
This is the first time since I was 18 years old that I do not own a house. I remembered a 2 month period when we rented a house while we waited to get into ours. I will pretend this is like that. We will remember the concept of our house and that we are just waiting to move back in.
The concept of our house is strong. When they arrive, the bricks and mortar will be just as strong.