Moving Sucks

In my vagabond days I moved at least once a year. In and out of dorms, to my grandparent's house, to an aunt's house, in with a boyfriend, cross country with a boyfriend, home after the break up ... For years all I did was move. It never seemed to phase me until now.  But my realization is that moving sucks. Plain and simple.

As a singleton, I had one room or a one bedroom apartment to move. As a married with children, I have significantly more. And moving with kids is more of a challenge because everything takes twice as long. I pack, he unpacks, the baby cries. I unpack, he repacks, the baby needs to eat. I close up boxes, he reopens them, we stop for snacks and diaper changes. It's an endless cycle and quite frankly I'm over it. Thankfully, this move went relatively smooth considering that my Gramma passed away just days before we moved and we were in complete and udder disarray in both our physical environment and emotional state. In fact, I think the move was just the distraction I needed to get me through the first week after Gramma's passing. (I wasn't avoiding the grieving part, just the public grieving. I prefer to grieve privately so having the excuse of my move allowed me to do that without any questions as to why I chose to be home.) It was kind of therapeutic because the immediate focus was on the task at hand so I could just power through what needed to be done and be alone with my thoughts at the same time without needing to "talk it out" every time I came across something that belonged to or reminded me of her. I'm not doing so well with that now that some time has passed and I am discovering mementos as I unpack.

We had help for several days which allowed us to get things over to the new place quicker than expected. Of course, because it was quicker than we expected, it was slightly chaotic. We had so many boxes in the garage that you could barely see the light of day when the door was open. It is a miracle I didn't trip, break a leg and get buried alive under boxes of bar ware and bathroom linens.  But three weeks in and this place feels more like home than any place else I have lived. We are still slowly unpacking (kids, remember?) and we hardly have anything on the walls and you still can't park a car in the garage but it's coming along. We made a whopping $1,400 at our garage sale  (Go us!) and that has allowed us to purchase the storage items we have needed along with a few goodies to "cozy" up the place. We've got a handle on the storage situations now and are ready to move on to decorating. I'm getting excited about that part. I know once we put our touches on everything this will really feel like home sweet home.

Unexpected Losses & Minor Set Backs

It seems that as soon as things seem to be going smoothly we hit a bump or a pothole or are delayed by a unexpected detour.  Such is life but this "bump" did more than delay me ... it derailed me.

Project Reorganize was in full swing when the call I have dreaded my whole life came in. It was a Tuesday a few weeks ago now. It was around lunch and I had just stepped out of the shower to the chirping of my phone ... 6 missed calls. I knew instantly that something was wrong but nothing prepared me for the news. My sister told me what I have dreaded hearing my whole life. My beloved Gramma had been called home. It was like someone just sucker punched me in the gut. She had been in declining health for some time so it shouldn't have come as a surprise but as much as I thought I was "ready" I felt completely blind sided. Nothing really had changed with her conditions that would have signaled that this was coming. It just happened--with no time to say goodbye. Like the snap of a finger. She was gone. And suddenly I felt lost.

Gramma has been my anchor, my rock. I was her first grandchild and our bond was formed as soon as I entered the world. We've had a close relationship for as long as I can remember. She was not just my grandmother but my friend. When I won an award, she was the one I wanted to call first. When I fought with my parents, she listened without judgement. When I went away to college, she moved me in. When I needed to come home on the weekends, she was there waiting outside my dorm. When I needed to know how to cook my first turkey, I called her ... a million times ... from the grocery store ... and then a million more times from my kitchen. When I needed advice, I asked her. When I didn't know I needed advice, she gave it to me anyway. When I wanted reassurance that I was doing the right thing, going to the right school, headed in the right direction, marrying the right man, she was there supporting me. I was always checking for that look of approval. And she was always there to give it to me. Except the few times when I got the "look." You know the one. The one that said "I'm-so-disappointed-that-I-can't-even-say-anything" look.  Thankfully, those were few and far between.

 

I am grateful that we spent so much time together in the end ... even if the end isn't how I want to remember her. I am grateful that, unlike so many I know, I got 32 and a half wonderful years to make memories with her that are etched into my heart. I loved listening to her stories and watching her work the Sunday crossword puzzle in pen (with whiteout) with her sisters Carole and Franny. I loved that she would drive to Las Vegas to see me on a business trip only to end up gambling and taking tequila shots with my co-workers. I loved teaching her the booty dance at my sister's graduation party (I think that's what it was!). Yep, she was that kind of lady. Always up for anything--no matter how crazy it seemed. She was so full of life and one of the kindest people I have ever known. I could fill volumes with my memories but I'll keep them close to comfort me like she always did.

With Mother's Day only a few short weeks away I have thought about her constantly. While I know I could never be as good as she was, I hope that one day my grandchildren feel the same way about me as I do about her. I have every intention to share her legacy and carry on her traditions so that they can have just a little piece of the joy she brought to us. I think that's what she would want.