Transitioning

We moved again, back to our old house, to live with our parents in their old age. This is the same house where I spent most of my growing years, and which witnessed all those landmarks in my life. This is where my husband first met my parents and asked for my hand in marriage. This is where I left from as a blushing new bride. This is where we brought home our two bundles of joy from the hospital. So yes, this house has seen it all.

But then living in a city, by a house you mean an apartment. And when it has been built by a government agency and is over three decades old, then you know that the house is hardly equipped to meet the pace of modern day living.

Coming from a modern home with all its attendant comforts, we are finding it especially hard to adjust to the old ways. But change isn't easy to implement; more so when a string of emotions and sentiments are attached to ever corner, to every piece of furniture. To top it, every time I recommend an upgrade, my parents meet my need with bewilderment. They cannot comprehend how the same house that I grew up in cannot satisfy me anymore.

So now the challenge is to strike that fine balance between the old and the new, to carve out a new identity for the same old space, to create areas that can serve the requirements of three different generations. Easier said than done!

In the midst of all this, my plants have remained a constant source of joy. The late bloomers did rather well, and are still giving us the last bursts of flowers despite the heat. And yes, the showy gazenias that I had hoped for finally bloomed, and how! :)