Remember when I was complaining that I couldn’t do anything to get ready for the move? That we were in “hurry up and wait” mode?
That’s over. Now we’re just in “Hurry Up” mode. And everything’s happening at once; Matt’s moving to a new apartment, and starting his new “traveling around the country” job next week; Thomas’ summer schedule is full to the gills until he moves into the dorm mid-August; and Sophia and I are in box-packing frenzy.
Today marks 60 days until we get into the car and leave St. Charles. Sixty. In that 60 days, all five of us will change our primary residences, four of us permanently. All five of us will undergo massive life changes at the same time, but in different directions. It would be one thing if we were moving the same direction at the same time, but we’re so spread out, it’s going to be impossible to wrap our arms around each other and hold on, which is our usual way of getting through big changes.
My Mom-Concern-O-Meter is stuck at eleven. Each of the kids is showing signs of strain; I see it in her eyes and hear it in his voice, and while the last one is adept at hiding his stress, I can see him fraying at the edges too.
The only way out is to go through, and so forward we go. Picking up more boxes today on our way to completing yet another stack of belongings in the garage, ready for dispersal. This one to Bampa and Mimi’s house for storage; this one to Michigan with Matt; this one to my sister’s house; this one to our storage.
The end of this road has an undoubtedly happy reward, and it’s pure excitement that’s propelling me through the fear. I can’t wait to be at Tim’s side again, to be installed in our apartment overlooking the valley, to start my time of exploration.
I’m done with fretting about it, impatient with all the thinking. It’s time to move.