Childhood in Adulthood!

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Who would have thought someone could be so grateful to be at a bus station?  But yes, that would be me.  Sat here with my green tea and bottle of water drinking as I type, the realization that once again my mum is right is proved through the carting of suitcases, bags and large hand baggage.  A massage to remove the many knots which have developed in my shoulders is required, but on the up side there have been no other repercussions.

As my trip home winds down, the bus I take from Vancouver to Seattle is the last leg before reaching home.

Reflecting on the last three weeks, I focus particularly on the emotions which have been evoked and how it was they came about.  I am a sensitive soul reacting to people’s responses and actions and like most, it may not show, but inside it is magnified.

The extremes of joy and sadness, experiencing that sensation of being loved unconditionally, the unforeseen disappointments and an overwhelming feeling of being grounded.  Returning to my origins conjured up an unexpected pride.  Once again, as life’s disappointments and negativities slink between the cracks of pleasure, long term it proves to deliver great things.

One of the other jobs I nailed was rooting through my past lives discovering treasures which have been confined for so long in boxes. I was like a kid at Christmas as I opened up boxes, rediscovering all my possessions.  Then came the dilemma of deciding exactly how many and which of my belongings I would take with me on my journey back and incorporate in my life in the US.  There were many lucky ones who traveled back in the brightly colored means of transport.  However, there were countless of which had been left behind.  It felt like having to choose one child than you love more than another!  Materialistic they might be, but at the end of the day they are still ‘things’.  For example, the sentimentality of my William Sonoma spatula is that I bought it in New York by Central Park whilst I was killing some time.  Every time I see it, that memory returns.  Crazy?  Perhaps.

Surprisingly, for someone who has a terrible memory, remembering where and how I got various items seems to be something I have down to a fine art no matter how long ago it was.  Random I know and I associate it with all my grey matter being knotted and tangled up up there!

Unpacking will be just as exciting as originally discovering and packing it. This time I have someone who will sit down with me and make the right ‘oooh’ and ‘aaaahh’ sounds as I get every single item out.  You can imagine I’m not going to get a thank you for that!

The Christmas decorations were unwrapped from their protective layers from the box to decrease chances of damage.

The Christmas item which is most special  and doesn’t come into question as to whether it was coming back or not, is the pillow case that was made with my name on it by my mum.  Every year it would come out and both my sister and I would lay ours out on the end of our beds before going to sleep.  We were filled with excitement and very sure that this year would be the year we would stay awake until Father Christmas came and filled up our pillow cases.  Obviously, that was never achieved.

The feeling of elation to wake up and feel a great weight just below our feet was indescribable. I’d always scamper down to the end of the bed and feel the shapes of all the goodies that awaited me under the carefully wrapped gifts.  Hopping out of bed I’d muster all the strength I had to pull the pillow case off the end of my bed whilst taking enormous care not to bump or let any of the presents fall out.  It was then dragged into my parent’s room and would normally meet my sister on the way who was undertaking the identical operation.  However, I do remember becoming frustrated as she always slept longer than I did.  I forever woke up ridiculously early and it got to the point where I was given a time that I was allowed to wake my parent’s up with my pillow case.  You can imagine how desperately slow that time went.

So, having shared a brief insight into my cherished Christmas memories and the sentimentality of that pillow case, it represents the merging of my two lives, my past and my present. This is the reality of growing up and being an adult; however, it also shows how you can still take your childhood with you whatever age you may be.

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