August 28, 2012

Hello and Goodbye


It has been an emotional, monumental, Meg, this-is-your-life kind of week. Most importantly, my precious baby niece Annah Olivia was born on August 15th.  I went home to meet Annah and help take care of my 2 1/2 year old nephew, Aidan, last week. Aidan and Annah are so precious and perfect and the already-abounding love I have for my sister, Catherine, only deepened when seeing her as a new mom to a daughter. Being an aunt is such a rich and amazing experience. Click to read further.





A full day of play-time with a little boy toddler is exhausting to say the least, but then I walked the 6 or 7 blocks to home to my mom's house to help her finish cleaning out my childhood home. We went through and cleaned my room and "the little room", a clubhouse-turned-storage/catch-all that contained every toy that came into my midst as a child. As one of the only kids our family knew who went through a divorce in 1983, that means A LOT OF TOYS. Toys, Barbies, Care Bears, stuffed animals, journals, diaries, art work, charm necklaces, you name it, I had it. It was touching and moving and made me feel a million to see so many souvenirs from a time that now only comes to me in pieces. It was powerful to revisit these times, more nostalgic than I anticipated, and harder to decide what to keep and what to throw away than I could have imagined.



On countless relics I found evidence of the 30 year friendship I have with my best friend Petra. Petra and I met and fell hardcore in love with each other at such an early age, we were already tight when we entered kindergarten. This friendship is ageless and timeless and is the rock that I have leaned on throughout my entire life. Petra is stamped on more memories than anyone.



I spent my last night on Enderby Drive, in my childhood home that holds so many memories of my life and the most important people in it. It was like saying goodbye to dear, old friend that I just thought would always remain. A friend who housed all of the memories of childhood, whose walls watched me grow from a mullet-haired girl into the woman I am now. When I arrived back home in Brooklyn and unpacked my bags, I could still smell the familiar smell of home on my clothes. What a crazy thought to imagine that I will never step foot in that home again. I surely will take it with me, and hope to create as loving and comforting a home for my family as my parents did for me.

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