Our family has a gift tradition that never varies when someone is moving into a new home - bread and salt. Two of the most humble items in any home and they're given with the following wishes. Bread, so that you'll never go hungry and salt, so that your life will always have flavour.
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I thought that this was a tradition throughout European countries, but after talking to one of my Italian friends, it seems that it's related to Central Europeans. Twenty-two years ago, after my marriage had ended and it was time to move out of my parents' place after five months, when I rented my own first place my best friend came with these gifts and a rechargable screwdriver. Hey, that's how the two of us roll. ;) I know I took bread and salt to Megan's first shared apartment in the west end of Toronto, along with lots of other groceries.
Bread and salt came with us down the highway to Waterloo on Monday to Sarah's first place. She stuck it out, living at home throughout her undergrad degree, and will now have a great place to live and work on her postgrad studies. It's a new beginning for both of us. We tried to give each other as much space as possible - okay, moms don't always do it, but we TRY - and I think the good times outweighed the bad. I'm going to miss our crazy routines - eating ice cream while we watched The Biggest Loser (seriously), our guilty pleasures watching and snarking on lots of the Housewives series, doing the "Ed Grimley" dance when we were both overtired (this has to be seen to be believed), sharing our mutual OCD about how things "have to" be organized around the house and more things that I can think of right now.
Life and changes will continue to happen - that's reality. As much as I'm going to miss my baby, it's time for her to fly. So I'm doing what I always do when changes happen - I rearrange things, paint rooms, make plans with my friends and yes, get organized for that next trip down the 401 to Waterloo.