We stuffed the car with birthday presents and luggage and zoomed off to explore the DC area, and to wrap our minds around yet another
Big Daunting Move.
Moving is usually rather traumatic for me.
A snip snipping of ties, a fare thee well to new friends, favorite restaurants, local libraries and parks, a tree we planted, a front porch, a hammock, ghosts of our younger selves that we leave behind.
For a year or so after we moved to NY from CA, Michael and I would cringe and shudder every time we saw a U-haul- I would actually feel nauseous- our moving experience was that awful. We broke down in the hot summer desert...us, our baby, two cats, and all our worldy possessions melting beside the road. This was in the middle of nowhere with no cell phone coverage. We hitched a ride with a kindly trucker. Instead of U-haul repairing our blown tire, they sent another U-haul over a day later. Poor Michael had to unpack the first one and repack in crazy Tetris Master style in 100 degree + stifling heat. Meanwhile, the cats are a'yowling and Noah's a'crying and we're all stuck in a flea-bitten motel room watching the weather channel. And we were traveling with the grief of Michael's father's death, which had just occurred two months prior.
Yep, U-haul evokes a deep nasty sorrow.
Anyhooo- this move is different. Michael has a sweet absent-minded professor job lined up. We're looking forward to living in a more diverse urban area so close to DC, and all the opportunity that brings. We will be situated between my family and friends in FL, and Michael's family in NY. It seems like a good fit for us.
But it's still a leap into the unknown. And I have to summon my strength to surrender control, to let go.
Who knows what paths we'll travel, who we'll meet and befriend, what we'll learn, and how we'll grow?
In fact, we are all transient in life, just passing through.
Oh yeah, so we had Noah's 4th birthday On the Road, and he really loved being stuck in the car with his mom and dad and nana. He really did. He chatted and chatted and sang and laughed and found pleasure in the smallest of things; the hotel elevator, a bridge we drove over, spotted cows in a field, sun peeking through the murky clouds. So lucky he's here to remind us of the important things in life.
Here Noah stands with the awesome Marble Run he constructed in our hotel room. He holds up his fingers and says, "I'm 4 now!"