This is the last photo I took in our old place. Moving out proved to be tiring beyond belief (you can see it in D's eyes) and endless (though it's over now, ironically...I guess it just FELT endless). I love this moment though because it's clearly a moving day moment: pizza on the floor, box in the window. M was at daycare all day and I warned her when I picked her up that there would be nothing in the house when she came home. She walked in and said "uh-oh" in that cute toddler way that really doesn't mean disaster. I was impressed at how well she was taking the change until I told her we were going to eat pizza and she lost it when she realized she didn't have her chair to sit in. Still she found her way on to the floor with pops and the novelty of eating picnic style set in...so did the pizza. Gingy made out well too.
I kept longing for that last moment of nostalgia in the old place. You know, the "turn the light off at the end of the tv series" moment. I was sure it would come and I would have some time alone with the hallow echo of the empty space to say goodbye to all the hard work and, more importantly, the change that took place there. We weathered dating, demo and moving in together there; we left it behind when we traveled down south; we lived with friends and spent many a fun night passing out in this space; this was the threshold we came over as a married couple; and we brought our baby girl home there. Truth be told, typing this is more nostalgic than what I felt Tuesday morning when we left the keys and closed the door. I was tired and achy, I needed to vote and take a nap. I left turning back for only a momentary goodbye and long look. Thankfully I have many pictures to revisit. I feel like an old friend is no longer with us. It feels strange to move on without that space coming with us too.