Easier Said Than Done

“Move on” is what people always say to you when there is something untoward that happened. It is just so hard to do sometimes, especially if you are the one who needs moving on. I loved living in the province. It’s my private haven. I loved it that I’m so close to nature that I could almost hear the trees talking to me. I love sitting by the brook eagerly waiting for the arrival of my characters in the stories that I’ve weaved on all the afternoons of my short stay there. Some of my stories started with kids running around, playfully splashing each other with the cool and clear water, or with women happily chattering while bathing or with men exchanging jokes after a hard day’s work at the rice fields. I still remember it all like it was just yesterday. That was 21 years ago. I was so heart broken when my dad told me one day that we have to move to the city right away for reasons not known to us. I didn’t know what to say feel or do. My mind has gone numbed thinking that I’ll have to say goodbye to my private universe. We left like thieves in the night. It was around 2:30 in the morning. The move was chaotic. The moving truck was so cramped that we needed to leave our other things. Things that had sentimental value to us. Things that would remind us of our wonderful time in the province. I was so mad. But what choice did I have, I was only 9 years old. It’s not like there was still time to look for a company that was to say the least at par with a boston moving company. If there was, I’m sure that though leaving our place was painful, our transition would have been pleasant, comfortableness wise. And most importantly, we needn’t have to leave any of our precious things. It’s been more than 2 decades already but I still can’t completely move on from that sad experience. I guess, it really is easier said than done.