Women’s Memoirs with Kendra Bonnett and Matilda Butler, Post #16 – Memoir Journal, Matilda Butler
Blog Journaling and Memoir Writing
Ten boxes shed and our car still looked like a jumbled heap inside. Yesterday morning, before departing Ukiah, we completely unloaded the car, consolidated some of the small backpacks into pomegranate red duffles (purchased for the trip but still unused), and repacked the back end of the car. Then off we drove to our new home state. Well, we did stop at Walmart to get gloves, hooded sweaters, and a warm jackets. After all, we needed clothing more appropriate for Oregon so that we don’t look like transplanted Californians.
All was fine for most of the trip as the black asphalt ribbon with two yellow lines enclosing a column of polkadots of the Redwood Highway snaked it way north. The scent of redwood filled the car as I began to point to interesting landmarks.
“Look, Bill. There’s our first sight of snow on the trip.”
“What a funny sign on that building — Smoke House and Laundromat.”
“That’s got to be a schizophrenic restaurant — it says Juan’s Mexican Food on the front and Anna’s Cambodian Food on the side.”
“You know, the names I’m seeing remind me of tourist attractions I longed to visit as a kid when we vacationed along Route 66 only these are specific to the Northwest — The Legend of Bigfoot, World Famous Grandfather Tree, The Mystery Tree.”
But all of this easy chatter came to a halt when I said, “Look at that cross-section of a tree trunk with the sign that it is a 1000 years old. Our Live Oaks are at least that size and I always think they are only 300 years. Maybe ours are older than that.” What was wrong here? I still talked about our property (oops, there I go again) as if it were “ours” instead of “theirs.” Even when I think I’ve let go, the place that we’ve loved for 13 years seems to still be attached.
Today’s lesson is to enjoy memories of what we had and did with the property but to let it go to the new owners. A hard lesson.
As we neared the border, I looked for the sign I imagined would say, “Leaving California.” Once again, that was just my mindset. Instead, we were greeted by a large sign proclaiming, “Welcome to Oregon.”
So here we are in our next motel. Today we drive to Eugene to see sons, daughter-in-laws, and grandsons. This Thanksgiving there is much to be grateful for. Let’s hope I learn to say “theirs” instead of “ours.”
-Matilda
For previous posts:
Memoir: Day 2 of Life’s New Adventure – The Realization
Memoir Writing Prompt: Day 1 of Life’s New Adventure
