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Archive for October 16th, 2013

Whenever life changes, I become particularly aware of the last times I experience things I did frequently before. Moving is a particularly strong motivator of these feelings, as physically relocating changes so much of what you do day to day.

Moving week has sneaked up on me this time, and I almost forgot to pay attention to the things in my routine that I’ll do for the last time. I reminded Bart on Sunday that it was the last time we had to drive to church from Maryland; our new house will be about 15 minutes closer now and won’t involve crossing a bridge or state line. I also am counting down the days that I commute to work via my current route. My new commute will be in a completely opposite direction, and while it’s three miles longer than my current route, I should make it much faster, as it’s mostly interstate and parkway (with the big caveat that I do my commute on off-times, or else it would be hopeless with traffic). I’ll no longer head north to go home, passing not four school zones, a large traffic circle, five speed cameras, and 44 stoplights (not even joking; I counted them up). I may miss driving down 34th Street/Reno Road, as it was a surprisingly serene and calm bypass of the craziness of the District, but I will never, ever regret it if I never go through Kensington or the intersection of Connecticut Ave. and Bradley Street again in my life. Ever.

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I usually cherish the last things I do around our home before we leave: last meal, last night sleeping there, last walk through before handing in the keys. But I feel strangely detached about our current house, lacking the usual sentimentality associated with our routine activities. I’m sure this is due to the fact that it’s a rental, though it was more tied to the fact that we knew it was going to be temporary. When we rented as a young couple before buying a house, we didn’t necessarily intend to move at the end of our lease. It turned out that way a few times, but we settled in each time and made it a home. This time, we knew we intended to buy and didn’t plan on being there any longer than we had to. In that way, I never formed the attachment of “home” with this house. It’s grown on me some over the year we’ve been there, but all of the old, annoying features of it made me long for a place to call my own.

The sentiment I lack about leaving this house will be more than made up for by the verve with which I shall embrace the first things in the new house: first meal cooked on the gas stove, first dinner party, first DIY project, first house guests. I’ve been unsettled for nearly a year here, but just in the last two months our new chapter of life in DC is starting to form; having our own home is one of the last pieces cementing our feeling of finally belonging here.

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