Stark can be beautiful: reflections on moving and loss

It almost looks like a cell of some sort.
The desk top is now clean.
The bag of clothes laundered.
The building I live in and am leaving
is decades old.
The truck driver who drove my
earthly treasures away
commented to me that
he could tell that the building was really old
and that they don't really put any money
for it's upkeep.
Which, until things become dire,
is sadly true.
It is so hard to keep this place clean.
The wood floors have lost their protective finish
and most of their colour.
The windows are never washed outside.
I have been cleaning for most of today.
My new yellow sponge will never be the same.
*
It is such a shock to suddenly
not have my dishes,
my cutlery,
my laundry racks for drying
(a necessity with apartment laundry machines
that fry everything).
When I was talking to Orthoman tonight
about something I wanted to get for our new house
I had to explain that I did not know where
down South
to get the item.
It will be a steep learning curve.
Not only will I need to learn to be a good wife
but I have to learn a new sub-culture,
a new town,
new stores, new brands;
my cereals are made in Canada
 and cannot be replaced.
Meat laws in the States are wretched and I
will be doing as much organic as possible.
My Hewitts farm yogurt from this area of Canada
is irreplaceable.
I have been looking and looking for good yogurt down South
and have yet to find any
other than one brand that is from Quebec.
No Cadbury Canadian chocolate.
No Frys cocoa.
Margarine will be in sticks instead of squares
by Imperial.
No Milk in a bag.
Ottawa is a big fair-trade town,
with Bridgehead (organic, fair-trade) coffee shops and
Camino chocolate.
When I am in Michigan I go to a local
American-Chinese restaurant;
the great thing about this place is being with my family.
But the Chinese food makes me shudder.
They don't know how to do a shrimp stir-fry with cashews.
The cashews were soggily drowning in a gallon
of clear sauce and none of the veggies crisp.
Even the nondescript, practically
urban-seedy Chinese restaurants do not

do this in Ottawa;
when I asked for chop sticks in Michigan they had to take them
from their decorative display.
It was, I realized, an odd request.
Suddenly I felt cultured, being able to use chop sticks.
(I was taught how to use them by Korean students I tutored
years ago in BC).
*
I moved my dresser into my living room;
I have my little icon corner under my St. George icon
there, with my prayer books
and books on marriage.
*
I went to the local grocery store and bought
bread, milk and orange juice.
Today that seemed a huge accomplishment.
Mon-Thursday were days where I was traveling or packing
for 14 hours a day.
I just survived packing my house
with lots of help
in two days.
Thank God for my friends,
Thank God.
I could of never made it...
*
This morning I slept and slept.
Tomorrow morning I have to take Cleo for her last vet
appointment for her vaccines.
Poor Cleo Cat.
 *
The afternoon I cleaned and cleaned.
Laundry,
sweeping, cleaning, window washing.
I am determined to give the next tenant
the best start to this place
as possible.
It is a great location.
I still believe that the Mother of God gave
me this apartment
painted in blue.
I had to learn to be really aware of others here.
My friend from Romania says that walls in this
apartment are thinner than the ones in
the new Romanian cities that
were built during communist times.
If my neighbour sneezes,
I hear it.
So it is a really unique place to live.
My last apartment was newer
and the walls very thick.
Unfortunately new construction is shoddy now days
and even new things are not as good
or sound proof.
*
Really though, this apartment
for me began with learning French
then saw me go through some great struggles as
I continued to look for work
and then ended with joy
of meeting my Orthoman
and in it I learned a bit more of what it is to love,
to offer hospitality,
to be aware of other's suffering,
to try to be kind in an apartment where
there can be very little sound barriers between
my two neighbours.
*
I have many dreams for future dinner parties.
My two friends that helped me move
yesterday helped me move over two years ago
into this apartment that I am now leaving.
They both said they remembered it being empty like it is now
when we began moving things in and
we reflected on all the dinner parties that I have had here.
It is so strange that I am hoping for more dinner parties
with my dear Orthoman
and none of my friends who always come to my
dinner parties will be here.
My last 'dinner party' here was with these two friends.
I put the yellow and orange tissue paper that
I had left over from a gift
on the old wood table
that I found years ago by the side of the road and
carried single-handily
over 5 blocks to my old apartment that I moved out of
I think in 2009.
My two friends and I ate take-out from a local pub
as we waited for the truck driver to come back
to pick up the trailer.
Pizza, a hamburger and fries and a chicken cranberry salad
with walnuts
were our dinner choices
eaten out of Styrofoam and with plastic forks.
*
And my beloved gold arm chair
that was my fathers
is staying behind in Ottawa.
I and Cleo will miss it.
Cleo is laying on the floor near by to me.
She seems okay overall, but
this much change is not easy on either of us.
*
I did not even know where my prayer books were this morning.
Thankfully things are being re-located.
And I saved a tin of tea light candles to have by my icons.
I am struck at how much I want my environment to be
ordered, clean, with icons and candles.
I found myself asking God how anyone lived
years ago with horrible plumbing and no bathtubs and
no icons and books.
*
So truly I have so much to be thankful for.
Including this blog and the community
who listens to me
as I go towards marrying the Orthoman I love
and who loves me.