I am moving. I knew I was going to do this a long time ago, (years, in fact), but now it’s coming up right quickly. Almost too fast. May 5 I fly.
This will be the hardest move I will ever make, I think. I’m not just moving to a new apartment, a new town, or a different state. I’m moving out of the US to a new country. Which means leaving so much behind.
Things..lots of “things” I am leaving behind – dishes, my pretty lamps – a home full of furniture and things that have memories. The memory of my frustration of putting Ikea furniture together for the very first time, and the absolute joy when, once the pieces were together, that they didn’t fall apart. The day a Christine bargained down the price of the sofa, as only she could. The laugh I had at the frantic phone call from her standing at a tag sale, telling me to “GET HERE RIGHT NOW!! YOU MUST HAVE THIS CABINET”..which was perfect, and has been with me since, and will be with her when I move. The lamps..the rugs..the color of paint..the dining room set…the easels and paintings…and on and on. Overall, really, though, these things are not as important as my memory of them. But I need some of these “things” to be with me, and help keep me grounded. I gave up a huge amount 14 years ago, and honestly, I can’t (won’t!) do that again. Books must come. My pretty hand painted apple dishes from Christine must come. The painting I bought in Paris must come. The metal sculpture of the Rooster my Child Person gave me must come. The small things.. which may turn into 30+ boxes!
My home..I’ve had a lot of parties here .. Thanksgiving (only once, thank goodness!!), New Years, Margarita Nights, a lot of “just because we needed to dance to 70-80-90’s music and get drunk” nights. I’ve thrown a wedding shower for Christine here. There have been taco nights where 40 (or more!!) tacos were deep fried, and when all the food was put on the table, silence ensued for a good 30 minutes while people ate and ate and ate. I had my wedding in this house.
I can walk through each room and hear everyone talking, hear the laughter. I can hear them discussing their lives…and politics, religion, sex, snow storms, making beach plans, the wonder that ONE friend thinks of the band U2, dislike of the Beatles, and love of Eddie and Pearl Jam and Disturbed. The benefits of a good vodka vs. the cheap shit. Which beer is best (Modelo), and which beer sucks (all the rest!). There have been tears spilled here…and a huge amount of laughter.
My family..I don’t even know where to begin here. My child person is now 24..but at what age can you really separate from your child without a huge amount of guilt..and fear..and that parental instinct that says DO NOT DO THIS? Deep down I know he will be okay. I know we can still Skype, and see each other. But.. my baby. Here. Without me to help him see the other side of his views..guide him as best as I can..be there when he needs to talk..and cheer him on when he needs support? Yup. Brain says No. Brain also says Go. There is a no-win situation here. Love for your child, and the thought of being so far away…I can’t even write on this without tearing up. This conversation with myself (which this blog is), will have to wait for another day.
The friends I have here are not just friends..they have become my family over the last 10 years. They have supported me, and I them. My family is what I call them. My niece. My sister. My brothers. My “adopted” Father (he “adopted” me a few years ago!!). Another bout of crying brought on by thinking of leaving these people I love has ensued. I talk on the phone with Christine every day. I have shared all the good, all the bad, all the ugly, all the joys with these people for years. I’ve been there for their good, bad, ugly and joys as well. I know myself well enough to know that it will be a struggle without them. Just a couple of days ago was the last “taco night – I shed quite a few tears, knowing that there were just a few more opportunities for nights like this with my wonderful family.
And yet.. even with all the “things”, my Child Person, and the family I leave behind, I start something new and exciting. A new experience to life. I did it when I was 18 – no reason I can’t do it again – and this time I have support from my family, and of course, from my sweet husband. I know I can do this, even though I know there will be ups and downs. It’s a new adventure. People to meet. Foods to try. A language to learn. And places to go.