Broken

100+ boxes later and Iโ€™m unpacked.

My anchor is dropped. Over six years of being homeless, traveling the world, Iโ€™ve stopped. Iโ€™m ambivalent about being happy. Iโ€™m going to miss traveling. Iโ€™m going to miss seeing something new on a regular basis. Iโ€™m going to miss the freedom.

Iโ€™m NOT going to miss the loneliness.

Iโ€™m not going to miss watching the slow train wreck that is happening to the world right now.

ย I sincerely hope that I eventually stumble into a life I love in my new home.

MY new home. I do love so many things about it. First and foremost, itโ€™s all mine. If I want to paint a wall, I paint the wall; no consultations, no bargaining.

But I have to paint the wall.

Anyhoo… back to the 100 boxes of stuff. When I set off on the journey back in 2009, we sold everything and put precious and practical items in boxes in storage.

I actually forgot about a lot of that stuff. Opening most boxes was like Christmas morning. Of course, many precious items from grandparents, drawings and gifts from the children, touchstone, and photos – all brought tears to my eyes.

ย Lifetimes of memories.

But a lot of it was stuff collected over the years. Useful, but still stuff.

I was lucky that my neighbour was an Army vet and was a whiz at packing. She insisted in helping me pack up my home and boy, was I lucky to have her.

Out of all the china, crystal, glass, et cetera, none of that was broken. Only two things were broken, and you wonโ€™t believe what they were.

As I have indicated before, when I started on my journey, I was married. I ended my journey single.

I was always proud of my family, and my family was the most important thing in my life, without exception. We had many decorative items scattered about the home that indicated the four of us. (Beyond photos.)

One of the items I had was a set of Sid Dickens ceramic blocks of King, Queen, Prince, and Princess crowns to represent us four. They were proudly placed in the living bookshelf.

They look like this:

The ONLY two items damaged through four moves was the King and Queen block. I kid you not.

It was so indicative of my experience, I sobbed for a day. The King and Queen of my family were broken and damaged. Cracked and scarred forever more. Never to be the same. The King and Queen had fallen.

I’ve passed the Prince and Princess blocks to my children, but knowing what they represented and how our family, like the blocks, is now scattered, Iโ€™m not too sure they were happy to have them.

He has his broken King block.

I glued my Queen block back together and hung it in my bedroom. Iโ€™m not broken, but you can see the cracks.