How deep is your love? I really mean to learn.~Bee Gees

The movie practically jumped from the library shelf. Nostalgia. I'd watched it a couple of years ago, and the subject matter had a meaningful impact--so many of the themes I relate to integrated into a movie. Time, memory, grief and love. I decided to watch the movie again. This time the impact was no less great, but perhaps more poignant. This time I watched, I was experiencing some of the same dynamics as the characters in the movie. Giovanni and I readying our house for sale and beginning to pack up our belongings. 

In some ways, I'm not ready to move from this home. I've become comfortable here, like a favorite pair of shoes. They go with everything. They don't hurt my feet. I love the way they look. And yet it's time to think about another pair for a different season. I can't wear boots in the spring.

There's been a tendency to become overwhelmed with feelings of grief and loss when I discover old photos. Loved ones gone now. My mind meanders down pathways I've traveled before, desiring to walk those trails again. Remembering.

I'm reminded, though, as I wrap up the objects of our narrative--a paperweight, framed art, packets of love letters, a favorite table cloth--of the loving history collected within this framework of brick and mortar. Giovanni and I have loved each other in this house. Its walls embraced my suffering the year I struggled through cancer treatment. Our kitchen table has been the heart of our togetherness. Giovanni has prepared a thousand meals and placed them on that table. Trees have matured over the years in the yard, providing shade and sanctuary.

I've walked hundreds of miles on our private street that I love. Today was no exception. I walked to the end of the road and stood at the tidal creek at high tide. A breeze blew that was so alluring, I could hardly pull myself away as the air grazed my cheek. A seagull flew overhead. I listened to the Bee Gees on Pandora. "How deep is your love? I really mean to learn." The lyrics were probably written about human love. I thought about the love of God. Over these years lived on this street, He has loved me deeply. I had learned that.

It is not easy to think of leaving, and it is simultaneously not realistic to think of staying. It is time for change.

If you'd like to watch the trailer from the movie, Nostalgia, directed so beautifully by Mark Pellington, find it here: Nostalgia