Dec 05

It’s a strange feeling when you move. At least it was for me this time.

When I was younger I moved a lot. I was constantly shifting now I think about it, when I was in my late teens and early twenties. I lived in different cities in England, and I lived in different homes in those cities. I had a couple of suitcases and not much else, I didn’t even have a laptop until the mid-nineties.

I moved back to Belfast and bought an apartment in Holywood in 1996, and we lived there until we emigrated to the USA in 2004. When we first arrived in New Orleans we rented a place, and stayed there for about seven months, then bought a house around the corner. So that Creole cottage (kind of… strictly speaking it was a condo) was my home from February 2005 until November 2018. Nearly 14 years, by far the longest place I’ve lived as an adult.

But time marches on and circumstances and relationships change. That’s life. You could fritter away your whole life looking back, considering the what ifs and the maybes. Better to accept and embrace what’s ahead.

But I did feel a wee tinge of sadness when I walked out the door for the last time, only because of the memories I have of raising my daughter there. She grew up there, it’s where she took her first steps and spoke her first words, and all the other things that are special to parents. But that’s fine: they will stay locked in the memory bank until I’m old and grey.

So here’s to the future. Let’s see what lies ahead and what life has in store for me. Upwards and onwards, right? Until next time…

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