Sentimentality

I have never considered myself a sentimental person, but the closer we get to our departure date (tentatively scheduled for June 1, 2009), the more sentimental I feel my self growing. I'm feeling sentimental about various nouns I will be leaving behind. The vast majority of my family and friends are in the North East, and I will miss them more than Skype can make up for. All of my favorite places are in New England. There's the rock at Seth's Pond where I learned to swim to as a little kid, the roof at Sunny Valley where some of the most meaningful conversations of my adolescence took place, Long Point beach, and Mount Tom (anyone sensing a water connection?).

I've also had to come to terms with my (reluctant) attachment to objects. As I've started packing I've realized that I have way more things than I thought I did, and I don't want to get rid of most of those things. I like my books, my clothes, my cameras, my enlarger, and I really like my chair. I have this wonderful, big, blue, comfy, over-stuffed chair. I've had it for about 10 years now and it is the best place to read a book in the world. It is also too big to fit in our camper trailer. I know I can always get another one, but this chair feels like home, and the loss of it only amplifies the huge life change I am making. I know that making a new home and a new life out West will be fun and exciting, but I am sad to let many aspects of the life I have here go.