Moving day…

This is a little song I heard a girl called Sara Miller singing this morning.  It is written by Bill Harley, and it was one of those “grace breaks through” moments.  My almost 9 year old had taken my computer hostage and when she finally left, I sat down and heard this song and cried like a baby.  Pent up grief is certainly a motor of neurotic behaviour…  Whodathunkit?

Listen to the song here

Car’s full,
Trunks packed -
Stuff on the roof rack.
Mom says
We leave soon.
Last time
In my room.

One last look out my window -
The yard, the street,
the place I know.

I go, they stay -
It’s moving day.

Here’s where
My bed stood.
Floors made
Of old wood.
Mom left
The light on
Walls marked
With crayon.

The door I slammed when I was mad.
The place I cried when I was sad.
I go, they stay
It’s moving day.

When I grow up, I might come back
To this place again.
If I find some kids live here
I’ll tell them who I am.

“Let’s go,” Dad calls
I guess that’s all
Goodbye house,
Goodbye room
I won’t be back soon
Down the steps,
Out the front door
Now I don’t live here
Anymore.

Part of my heart stays
On moving day