Sunday, November 4, 2012

Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow... i.e. it SUCKS!!!

Okay, maybe I should phrase that a little less dramatically - it's almost Moving Day.

Yes, after nearly 25 years here, nestled into a Boston suburb, this New Englander is finally uprooting herself and heading south. It's an inevitable move for most of us - the kids have gone on to mostly bigger and better things, like their own apartments and a cat. Hubby's job has taken him out of state and there are more than a few dual-home couples these days. You gotta go where the work is.

So here it is. We're combining houses, packing up this one and (eventually, if we get things like drywall, permits and FIOS) moving into a brand new home. So why is it that I'm possessed with the urge to choke the living daylights out of the next person who says to me "Oh, you must be SO excited!"

Let me say this clearly and concisely. "NO. I am NOT excited. I'm frickin' TIRED and FED UP of boxes, lists, more lists and the idea of moving is CRUSHING me." Got that? I used capitals in case you missed any of the salient points. Here's a visual aid, to prevent any confusion.

WHAT MOVING IS - A BUTTLOAD OF BOXES


This is to illustrate that moving is, simply, a chore. A pretty large one, granted, but it involves putting things from your places (a room or a cupboard or something) into boxes. That, in essence, sums it up.

Of course, not everything gets boxed, since it's a good time to be selective. And the boxes sure aren't this tidy. LOL Not to mention that things like beds and bookshelves don't fit.


WHAT IT FEELS LIKE - END OF DAYS


 
However, when you're in the middle of the chaos, when you find you've packed your last roll of packing TAPE (yes, I did that yesterday, sigh), then it truly does feel like you're teetering on the edge of extinction. Your life passes before your eyes with every box of your kid's Kindergarten projects you sadly throw out. You look at that 15 year old bridesmaid's dress (the one you KNEW you were going to wear again) and realize that there still are some universal untruths.




It is very difficult to pack up nearly a quarter of a century of "stuff". (George Carlin does a fabulous riff on stuff. See it. Must be on YouTube somewhere.) Everything you touch has a memory, good or bad. Everything you touch is YOUR stuff. It was bought by or given to YOU. (Or your family, of course.) Whatever the source, it's a part of your life and has been for anywhere from the last five minutes to twenty-five years. And yes, you're about to either a) recycle it; b) donate it; or c) put it out for the trash. And none of those options seem like a good idea when you're holding a small plastic trophy your kid won for loudest sneeze on a field trip.

Yeah, it's a ripping of some kind of dwelling-linked umbilical cord. It's a parting of the ways with a spot on the map that has hosted most of your life. And make no mistake about it, it's painful. It frickin' HURTS, people. So please don't ask me how excited I am. Just pass me a tissue and let me weep a little.

Of course, this will pass. I'm an emotional sod right about now, but I am also aware that the things making me sniffly aren't being thrown away. The memories will always be there, in my mind. It's the reminders that are going, not the feelings themselves, or the image of my son's face when he slid to the podium like a ballplayer to receive his award. (He was four. Do not remind him of this.)

And yes, there are good things ahead. A real office, decorated in the style I am developing which is Jane-Austen-married-to-Steve-Jobs. Regency/Victorian + Apple. I am working on a name but for now it's Elegant Techno-Fruit. Seems to work? And as I begin my last full week here amidst the remains of the autumn foliage, I am nearing the point where I can look back on my years in this house with warmth and a bittersweet joy. I can't have those years back, but as I said, they'll always be in my heart. And there are new memories to create and relish. Maybe a puppy. Or two. Who knows?

So here's the illustration that pretty much sums things up as I contemplate the Tetris-world I'm inhabiting for the next ten days...

At least not as of this writing...


Good luck, safe travels and a wonderful Thanksgiving to everyone. I'll be off line a bit as the Great Transition occurs, but you ain't seen the last of me. Yet... LOL

Sahara

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Got books on the way. Dunno when, but stay tuned. Seriously. I can write anywhere. Even in a BOX!!! LMAO




Aw Hell. Carlin is too good to pass up. You GOTTA watch this and be prepared to howl!!!