Yesterday we moved Aunt Lula Mae's armoire. It was a daunting task, one that I had dreaded for several years, but with the help of Georgia and James, we disassembled it, loaded it, then re-assembled it here, with the added help of James' dad. I had actually lost sleep fretting over this move, and I'm not used to it in my bedroom yet but it is home.
It is odd, but it has an almost human presence here. I'm sure it is due to the sheer size of it, yet it stands waiting to be filled with my bits and pieces of life, as it served Aunt Lula Mae for all these years. In my early years, it contained the creative bits, with scraps and fabric carefully folded, rolled, and tied. In later years, it was the depository for remembrances, for gifts rarely used, and for things "that may be needed someday".
It also brings to mind, for me anyway, a sense of connection to church. I think it is because of the classic design that evokes a feeling of old church buildings. The stately nature of the old designs are echoed in the furniture's design. It is a good feeling, a connection to heritage kind of feeling.
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In other changes, we have moved, we have changed churches (also denomination), the only big change not made is retirement. More on that later.
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