The big move and my second cross-country drive to California are fast approaching.
We signed the real estate closing papers with the relocation company this week. I’ve sold many of the items we will not need, use, nor want to move, and what didn’t sell will be donated for a tax deduction. My stress level is a bit elevated, but I’m working on keeping it in check by spacing out the things on my to-do list.
My boys will be with me Easter weekend for some quality time before the moving company begins packing April 1st. I’m praying the time with the boys isn’t too emotional. So far I’ve had what I would consider normal emotional moments but could completely begin sobbing easily. I really don’t want to do that, cause as good as a good cry is (releasing all those endorphins and all) crying gives me a headache and I hate feeling bad with a migraine.
So for now I’ll distract myself with the road trip planning.
Life is full of changes…. It’s what life’s about. How we adapt to the changes says a lot about who we are. I’m realizing I need more time to process big changes the older I get.
A year ago I sold the home I had lived in for 13 years. We (me, my ex-husband and our two boys) moved in when our youngest son was two and our oldest was about to begin kindergarten. They grew up in that house. It was a great house; I’d made it a home for them and fought to keep our home through the divorce of their father and me. There’s a lot of memories, the good outweigh the bad though.
This morning after visiting a friend in our former neighborhood I realized the house D and I have been living in for the past year was a transition necessary for me (mostly me) and D to be more open to relocating outside of the Mid-South. If the previous house was the house we are currently selling to move to California…….I’d be having a harder time than I am. Oh, I’ve had some emotional ups and downs but transition is the process necessary for change to occur. My friend and colleague Sue West has built a successful business Organizing for a Fresh Start helping folks with life changes and transitions just like this.
The realization this morning for me was this: the holder of memories is our mind, not a physical place or thing. The place (in my case, my old house) only reminds of me the memories.
Have you seen a baby bird that is out of the nest a bit too soon? They hop around, trying to fly, but can’t get off the ground or out of danger. They know they need to be higher up, in a bush, on a fence or even better in a tree. They’re yelling for mama in their baby bird way for help. Sometimes you see mama flying around, swooping in, encouraging and vocalizing her concern, but in reality there is little she can do. She can’t pick up her baby and put it back in the nest till it can fully fly. I always hated to see this.
I was taught as a child to not bother the baby bird, the mama is nearby and watching. Heatbreaking as it is she can’t pick up her baby and put it back in the nest. All she can do is tweet encouragement and maybe a little advice in her mama bird way. It’s up to the baby.
I’m that mama bird who is NOT nearby and it’s breaking my heart. Oh, how I’d love to swoop in and do what is needed to help my baby! I am encouraging and suggesting, but it’s up to him to do what he needs to do. The helpless feeling is the worst, isn’t it, when it comes to our children.
What’s for supper? Not much. With our impending move to California we have been consuming the food in the fridge, freezer and pantry and only buying necessary items. After being gone for the past 10 days traveling, my plan was to hit the grocery this morning for a few things. But gotta love that saying about planning, “man plans and God laughs”.
So here I sit waiting on the luggage that didn’t make all the flights with me yesterday. When reviewing my literary initially I thought there might be a possibility this could happen. Flight out of Sacramento was on United to San Francisco and changed airlines, American Airlines from San Francisco to Dallas, then to Memphis. Apparently there wasn’t enough time between the first connection for the United baggage handlers to get the bag on the American Airlines flight to Dallas. Gosh, if I’d known that on the front end could have planned a bit better. Oh well. It’s how you choose to react to these little bumps in the road, isn’t it.
Once the luggage arrives and I’ve unpacked I’ll head to the grocery. I’ll only be shopping for me for the week. Yay! Rabbit food for the week. Well, I might sneak in a Cadbury egg or two.