i moved. well. i moved bedrooms. i moved from my yellow cozy (in other words: incredibly small) attic space that i was given when i arrived home a year ago to my sister’s larger taupe, red, and black room. shelves line the wall with her darker colored clothes and my rather pink clothes. the shoe rack is full of her heels and my flats. i’m in a queen bed for the first time in my life.

i’ve moved in here with her. but she’ll move out in a few months.

she gets married.

i haven’t really talked much about that and honestly, haven’t really thought about it (other than giving my opinion on reception halls, catering services, wedding dresses, bridesmaids dresses, places to honeymoon, colors, flowers, invitations, save-the-date cards, etc). all that business of really thinking about what her getting married does is a rather mixed emotions type thing that i’m staying away from for as long as i can. but tonight, as i organized my things and found myself putting the not-needed-right-this-very-moment type items in boxes, knowing that in a few months i’ll have room for them once she empties shelves and closets of all her belongings, i found myself thinking about it.

tonight the mumsie was teary after i mentioned her getting married. and how that includes packing her things and leaving.

“everything else is so happy, but that part is hard. so very hard.” i held her hand and kissed it while in her heart she starts preparing herself for letting go of another daughter.

“someday… someday i’ll be in a small house and it will be just daddy and me again.” i watched her walk away. just daddy and her? that sounds sad to me. my daddy and mumsie. they were made for a bustling place with lots of people and mumsie always adding another plate to the table.

just daddy and her.

that means that i’m not in the picture anymore. and somehow that made me even more sad. i don’t know where i’m going and i don’t know exactly what i’ll be doing, but someday… someday i’ll pretend to be this grown up my age says i am and i’ll try my hand at that rather cliche saying of spreading my own wings and fly.

but not yet. at least, not today. no. today i’ll organize myself into another bedroom in this house of my parents (there’s only one bedroom here that i’ve not occupied at one time in my life) and think about how for a few more months i get to share a room with my bestest.

and i’ll try not to think about that mixed emotion event that is coming up.

because someday… someday she’ll get married and leave.

3 thoughts on “someday.

  1. As I read your blog, it brought me back to a time when I was much younger. I am the youngest of five, and both my sisters and I (three of us) shared a room together as we were growing up. I watched and emotionally went through both of my sisters leaving, moving on going to college and removing their things from our bedroom. It was a very emotional time for me. I was then 16 yrs. old. My older sister got a bed of her own, while my middle sister and I shared a twin bed together. It is difficult to see people you love so very, very much move on when you have spent your daily living with them while we are still left behind to do what we need to do in that particular season of life. I shed many tears alone as I looked at a closet filled with just my things, and being the youngest I was the last to be home with my parents. I related so much to your blog today again. You’re such a kind, compassioinate, sweet young woman. God has much in store for you. I pictured you kissing your mumsie’s hand in that sweet, endearing moment and I felt the feelings that you felt in every sense of what you wrote. Parents are so vitally important, so much to love and cherish there. Keep on kissing your mumsie and daddy and always let them know how important they are in your life. As I sit back and watch and read about your family lives, I’m in awe. So much, so many things to do, but despite it all, the core of a family unit so very, very strong, focused and loving and God is the center of it all. I love you Louissa and your family very much. Embrace life fully as God guides you through it.

    Nancy C.

  2. could you have made me cry any harder after I read this?

    in case you didn’t know, the tissues the other night that piled up throughout the long conversation the other night (you know, the one where you sat and journal-ed and read and texted during?) started off with reading this.

    so bittersweet. I love my Mouissa!

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