Walls That Talk…

Two things inspired this. Looking at new apartments to move. Our youngest starts high school in the fall and we would like to make her commute a little easier and safer. Also, especially in the winter months, maybe she’ll be able to stay under covers in the mornings a little longer. Second, work needing me to spread the same number of working hours over 6 days rather than five. I would like the same hours in 4 days, maybe even 3!

We’ve been living in this apartment, my sacred home, my holy sanctuary, my little castle for the past 12 years. The longest I’ve lived in one place my whole life, second longest is 5 years. When we first saw it, and as soon as we walked through the door, my husband said, “This is it!”. I didn’t really like it. But we had to move and we had to do it fast. My parents-in-Law were moving in with us from back home and we needed a bigger place, first floor ASAP. Mom can’t go up the stairs. The day of the move and after the movers almost put everything on the truck, I said goodbye to our old place. That old place I lived in for 3 years I’ll never forget. But that’s another story.

I took some valuables and drove the car to our new place. I was by myself for about an hour and I was tired. The one who’s starting highschool in the fall was only 2 and she was spending the day with my stepdaughter and her mommy. No cup to make coffee or tea. No cover. No chair to sit on yet. It was in the corner of the dining room that I sat and leaned my back on the wall. Then ended up laying down on the floor.

The walls talked. And I couldn’t stop crying. That was when I fell in love with this place.

The movers came. Filled the place with our boxes. When the 2 year old came to see it later for the first time she ran around to discover. It’s a rare setup. Every room has two doors. More hallways than necessary. This three-bedroom two-bathroom apartment has 27 windows and 13 doors.

The walls in all the places we’re seeing now are not talking. It’s too silent.

Then yesterday morning I got a text from the 22-year old. “Mom, I just saw you in a dream. Missing you!”

He then immediately called. I was telling him how I now only get Sundays off. How work is not letting me put my hours in five days. “Mom, it’s ok. It’s in our blood. We can do it Habeebti, my love in Arabic. You’re like your father. I’m like you.”

But how do I tell him?

That walls do talk…

That the floors miss our feet. And the walls look for us. That the sink longs for my touch. The curtains and windows ache to be opened and looked through. That the chairs want to wrap their arms around us. That this dinning room misses all of us, misses you most. The echo is very loud and the only thing that can silence it is new noise, or new walls!

How do I tell him?

That walls do talk…

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16 Responses to Walls That Talk…

  1. Awwww. 12 years of comfort and safety of home then a hard turn to new, is so hard. Good luck to you and family Sawsan.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. debiriley says:

    Sawsan, this is a very moving description of family, house, home, transitions. Beautifully written. Thank you for sharing this. cheers, Debi

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Writer Lori says:

    Lovely Sawsan. So important to listen to our hearts. May you find a place that speaks to you soon and launches a new chapter of beautiful memories.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Dale says:

    I’m late to the party, but have just joined your peeps 😉
    I know EXACTLY what you are talking about. I am in the stoopid “staging process” and the “For Sale” sign will be put up next week if all goes well. We have been here ten years but got the place so my hubby could work from home and look out the front window while doing so – now they want me to remove the desk because “a window must be clear” – Eff ’em…It’s staying. There are memories galore in here and I really do need to make a new start now that hubby is no longer of this world. It is painful to stay, painful to leave. But leave I must.
    Oh, and that picture is sublime!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. Kiki says:

    Sawsan; I so know what you’re talking about. I have moved more often in my life than I care to count, sometimes continents, often within one country. Sometimes w/o kids, then with, now w/o again, with and without pets, with two husbands…. But the ONE thing I learned to do with regards to moving: Always I have a large box with me, containing all the important papers, keys, documents of vital interest, a kettle and 2 mugs for tea. Nowadays it would also be my espresso machine….. 🙂
    When we moved to France, we bought, with the house (which is on sale now) also a folding-down bed, only to discover when we arrived in the evening that the previous owners had removed the matress and left a note saying: Sorry for taking the matress, our son needed it for his holiday home….. So at our ‘ripe’ age (;)…) we had to sleep on the hard parquet and to add hurt to injury, had to ORDER a custom made matress for said bed which took nearly 2 months to be delivered!!!
    Lesson: Do NOT travel without your tea things and a cover…
    Are you happy now, in your new abode? Has it proven the feelings of the beginning? I do hope so – it’s so upsetting, this moving about – and often so needed. Also, for your work, it’s so difficult – but God will provide…..

    Liked by 1 person

    • Sawsan says:

      We didn’t find a place yet. And I started a new job with a new company earlier this week.

      Everywhere I go I have to have my coffee and tea with me 😊


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