Walking away

How do you wrap a life you have known into cartons? Echoes of laughter, silence of hot tears and hurtling voices of anger jostle for space inside even as books and clothes fold neatly inside. Strangers come and dismiss memories of a life into corrugated sheets and cling wrap. Friends help with moving and you spend days unpacking stories that were forgotten.

The plants need some time to settle into their new light while the youngling runs around finding new spots to hide. I watch as belongings find new homes and look around- half in surprise, half in sadness.

Was kindness too much to ask?