Moving Day……again

It’s moving day – again. Oh, not for me

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Well, that didn’t go far. That first, and only,  sentence was written February 2, 2025. Fourteen months ago. And so much has happened since then. But what holds most true about that sentence? It was applicable then, it is applicable now.

Pardon me while I whine and cry just a little.

Now, let’s start over, shall we?

To be what I consider relatively stable people, my little family has turned out to be quite transient. Ninety-eight percent of us hold down jobs and pay bills and have homes, but we all just seem to move a lot. Things come up, circumstances change, cars and moving trucks get loaded, new mattresses are bought. It becomes commonplace to pick up and go. The seven years I’ve lived with The Lawyer at The Brooks Barracks is running neck and neck for the record of longest time I’ve lived any one place. I’m not saying this is a good or bad thing, because there’s good and bad in it all. I’m just saying that’s how it’s been, and apparently how it’s going to be.

So, back to our original opening line.

It’s moving day, but not for me. It’s moving day for my kid. Only he’s not a kid, he’s a grown man, and that’s why he had to go.

When he was growing up we moved every few years. Not to a new city or anything, just to a new home. Always trying to increase our financial position and have just a little more space in a little nicer place. From the time he was born, until the time we moved to Orlando (see all the old posts about that) we moved 4 times. Then while in Orlando we moved twice while he was with us, then he moved off to college and before college was over he’d lived in 5 places. Then in grad school he lived in at least 4 places, and after that he’s now on his third place, I think. If I’m doing the math, he’s lived in no less than 19 places in 28 years. (Pardon me while I go call a therapist). 13 is the number of times I’ve moved in my life; probably would’ve been more of I’d gone off to college, too.  To say we have the minimalist lifestyle down to a science would be a true and just statement. (Pardon me while I put the therapist’s number on speed dial).

His last move was from Tampa to home for what was supposed to be three months before moving on to the new location of his adult job. But, you know how that goes –  timelines change. Ours did not, however. We had an agreement with him that he could live with us three months until it was time for him to move one state over to his new job. But the build-out won’t be ready, so he needs to stay put for a couple more months. Just not at our house. He has to go.

Not because I want him to, mind you, but because it’s what’s best for us all, though I’m not so sure he’d necessarily see it that way. But as his mom, I know it’s best.

And it hurts all over again.

This having a kid thing is for the birds.

Every time he comes and goes it rips my heart open all over again. The last few years he’s stayed a couple weeks here and there between semesters or grad jobs and it’s been great to have him around. And then he leaves and my heart hurts. This time was the longest he’s stayed, and while The Lawyer and I had to adjust our household ways a bit, he was really no trouble and it was nice having a young person around. But the three months has been marked off the calendar and we want our house back, and I’m incredibly sad all over again.

My apologies to my parents for not recognizing they, too, may have been through the same heart tug.

Thanks to dear life-long friends, my kid has a fabulous pool house to live in until he can move to his permanent place one state over. And that means I still get to see him twice a week at the gym and maybe coerce him into an after work dinner every now and again, which will help ease the transition to him, once again, not being just across town. This transient life we’ve developed isn’t everybody’s cup of tea, but somehow it’s worked for us and we’ve adjusted.

Mostly.

I know at some point soon I’ll have the quasi nervous breakdown, cry it out for a couple hours, take a hard nap, then wake up ok. Happens every time. I just hope this time it’s at a more convenient time, and not while I’m in line at the grocery or at an appointment. That’s always super awkward. But whatever.

Time to get myself immersed in some new project or otherwise dumb idea, like chopping down trees or cleaning out the garage. Hard physical labor always makes it better. Or at least exhausts me to the point of not being able to expend my energy on sadness. That’s always a good thing.

So if you see me out in public shedding a tear, just keep on walking…..nothing to see here…..

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