Learner Dad: We're moving house and I wonder if I’m bottling up my feelings

When I moved from Dublin to Cork I felt bad during the opening credits of Fair City, and not just because it meant Fair City was about to come on

We’re not just moving house, we’re moving from this area completely, leaving all that behind.

We’re moving house in two weeks. Or three. We’re told it might be four. Closing a house deal in Ireland is about as transparent as a papal election – there comes a point where no one seems to know what’s going on. Or maybe everyone in the bank has gone on holidays. 

Either way, our neighbour told me yesterday he is moving to Poland after an abusive relationship with the Irish property market, and that a house deal takes about three weeks to go through there after you go sale-agreed. 

Anyway, I’ll leave that kind of chat to Tommy Barker and others in the Property section of this paper. Either way, we’ll be in a new house by mid-September.

I’ve been in our old house since 2004, my wife moved in around 2007 because I’m irresistible. The kids arrived in 2012 and 2014 – this place saw us become a family. I think we’re all starting to grieve the old house in our own way.

My wife has gone ‘Full-On-Removal’, talking about the house as if it was laid out in a funeral home. At breakfast she told the kids to hug our house and thank it for keeping us safe, together, fed and dry. 

The kids seemed well up for it as long as she gave them a treat. I just sat there rolling my eyes, grumpy Dad Victor Meldrew-style, and pointed out that it’s just a house. 

She ignored me and told the kids to rub the walls of the old house so we can rub the walls of the new house when we move in and transfer all our positive energy. 

I asked them not to rub the walls until we’re finished showing the old house to potential buyers.

I’m the one with the problem here. We paid a visit to our new house last weekend to check up on some things and our seven-year-old sat himself down in a quiet corner of the back garden and started rubbing the grass. He was literally getting a feel for the place. It’s fair to say he is more in touch with his feelings than his old man.

I wonder if I’m just bottling up my feelings and I’ll feel the grief more than anyone when the time comes to move. 

I moved from Dublin to Cork in 2003 without a bother at first, only to spend the next two years feeling miserable every time a shot of Dublin came on the TV. I even felt bad during the opening credits of Fair City, and not just because it meant Fair City was about to come on.

Now that I think about it, I got a tiny shot of angst when I was out for a stroll yesterday and spotted the kids’ old nursery school through the trees. 

I’d forgotten all the times I stood there waiting for them to come out. We’re not just moving house, we’re moving from this area completely, leaving all that behind.

The good news is we’re leaving on good terms. We had a great home, sound out neighbours and a lovely bunch of kids and parents at the school. We’d have stayed if our current house was big enough, but it wasn’t and the new house is 30 minutes away.

I probably need to ‘feel’ a bit more now, to spread the sadness while we’re waiting to move so I can settle faster in the new house. 

The kids are well ahead of me on this, with regular mentions of how they feel a bit anxious about the move, just so I can reassure them that it will be ok.

Maybe I need some kind of ritual to mark the move. My wife is talking about getting a white witch into the new place to brush it with sage. 

Part of me (my mouth) wants to snigger at the notion of a woman brushing our walls with a bit of hedge. But another part knows that this move is about more than moving from one building to another. 

My wife and kids get that in spades – now I need to get on board. So get in touch if you know a good witch.