At The End

This week has been busy, painful, joyful, and exhausting.  I am reminded time and again how it feels so much like the last time I did this. Naturally that dredges up wonderful and melancholy memories and feelings of my Utah based family. My brain is stacked, layer upon layer, with snippets and pieces of my life. My "rest" is infused with complicated dreams and I wake up each morning unsure what day it is and where I am. Getting two teenagers off to school is harder than I thought. I can't be sure how they survived without me all these years. I think it's probably been the same routine, I've just not been here to stress about their body getting on the bus on time. They seem to lack a particular sense of urgency.  All I know is I am NOT battling 2500 other parents at the HS/MS COVID cautious dropoff line. Get your behind on that bus, come hell or high water. 

I have cried every single day because. The people. The people are so kind and dear and "goodbye" is the hardest word spoken. 

I have been working to withdraw and enroll my kids for school. I'm tired of looking at my phone and trying to accomplish these tasks. You have no idea how much easier it would be to do this on a computer.  I think I'm almost to the finish line. Just need to place a couple calls today.   We are definitely going to need more technology in TX.   

In the early summer, we got a POD to put some of our stuff in storage while we listed and sold our home. They returned said POD, per our request, on Tuesday and plunked it right in the middle of the incoming lane. Not on the curb, not next to the curb, but literally in the middle of the road. We emptied it promptly and tried to get them to return to get it, but they said Friday was the best they could do.  Thankfully, we live in a small neighborhood with no outlet, so traffic is minimal. However, I knew someone would complain, and the state police would be at my door. Sure enough, they arrived yesterday, late afternoon.  The trooper was nice enough, he took our information, I assume filled out his report and departed.  Ticket's in the mail....  We'll see. (This morning the buses had difficulty getting around because someone parked right in front of it on the opposite side of the street.) Lordy, just get me out of here without one more blessed visit from the police. I've been in more trouble in NY state than anywhere. Y'all are serious up in here.  

We are finally under contract in Texas. It took us seven offers, but the good Lord perfected it and we are pretty excited with the possibility. Inspections are underway and more negotiation will occur, but I think it will work out to be ours. It has a pool!  It has a very quiet and private backyard which is something we have never had. This current house has been great but there was a definite lack of backyard privacy and the neighbors liked to enjoy their tunes at a high volume. I mean, I'm okay with country music, but no one else in this house is remotely on board with that. I went wrong somewhere with these friends....  I like to think seven years in Texas ought to set them straight. Just remember....I was not the one who initiated this move. 

I have less than seven days in NY. The weather is blessed by God to see me out. The leaves are turning beautiful shades because of the cold snap; now it is warm, sunny and breathtaking to behold.  It is a beautiful way to transition to a place without the seasons.  I am looking out my windows and, certainly not, but, yes definitely, shedding a few tears as I type this. The home I raised my small children to teens is being packed up and the hour draws closer when it will be empty of all my things.  I will stand in it, alone or with my people, and I will play the memories that are indelibly printed in my heart. Food and soul satisfying laughter in this dining room. Migrated and drawn out Midwest goodbyes in this entryway.  Crazed squirrels and chipmunks running through this family room. On this deck I manhandled our giant Christmas tree, in the freezing rain, and basically broke my tailbone. Countless hours spent in love, anger, prayer, and joy in this old, chintzy kitchen. (new one can't count.) Prayers, heart to heart chats, and questionable cleanings in these boy bedrooms. A history of love and guests in this bedroom.  Love made and shared, and plans and dreams and life celebrated with my soulmate in this bedroom. It will all be empty and I will feel the full weight of the end. I will drive away. I will be crying. And I probably won't come back. 

To be at the end is something I can't quite define. It's better to leave it to the imagination. All your emotion is juxtaposed with logic, rationale and a complex combination of past, present and future, with some sadness as the central theme. 

To be at the beginning is something we can easily define.  Chaos despite organization. Excitement and fear for the unknown that is near. Uncertainty. Myriad emotions, but generally, sadness is not a theme. 

I will be both at the end and the beginning in seven days. It is a road I am dreading to take. Walk with me, Friends, and I won't feel as lonely. I will be able to tell you how it hurts, how it makes me roll my eyes, and how it makes me laugh. You can tell me how you were at the end once and what helped. You can tell me about what made your eyes roll today, and together, we will find the laughter in all the experiences. 

Stay with me. 

Ground Zero - New York

Gentle Readers....

Many are worried about the start of school, COVID, the election. These things are barely on my radar. School will technically start next week for my children, for two point five weeks and then we will move to a hotel in the south of France. Errrr...I mean the middle of hot, dusty, windy, brown, Texas.  If it sounds like I was unimpressed with my new digs....it's because I was. I am.  But. I also did not like Utah in the slightest when I arrived; although, at least it had a beautiful mountain range to spice it up. 

Don't worry. I will settle in. I will. I always allow myself the full rights and privileges of one mourning and grieving and it always involves some disdain.  Texas did not win my heart in the four days I was there, nor did I expect that it would. The internet was enough to tell me that it would not fulfill my environmental desires.   

I am stuck in limbo, neither living nor dead.  My days are long, and wonderfully, then painfully, then wonderfully, boring.  Moving is like dying and if you don't agree, then you have never closely encountered either one.  There is an almost imperceptible line that is crossed as you near the end. Persons with a terminal illness, who have been preparing, cross that line. The living watch and mourn and inch by inch distance is created from within the circle. The person leaving is accepting, understanding, and emotionally detaching from the life that was lived. Persons leaving one life, moving, cross that same invisible line in the sand. 

I knew it was coming. I was preparing. I've been prepared; but, nonetheless, it is hitting me quite painfully.  I have removed myself from all my obligations and the life around me continues without me in it. There is a bubble created from within the circle. I look out the windows toward my now old life and give a melancholy wave.  My life has already said its beautiful goodbye and these things can really only be dragged out so long. 

Limbo. 

Painfully alone. 

Painfully uncertain. 

It was always coming. I told people and they did not believe. "Oh, we'll do stuff. We'll make plans. We have plenty of time. We will stay in touch."

I have done this enough to understand the process.   

The bubble has been created. The line has been crossed. 

And so I wait to wake up to my new life.

What will it look like? I can't be certain. But I think it is going to be harder than I imagined it would be. 

Help me, Jesus, help me write the next chapters well.