Transition time

The past two days at my parents' house have been a place of calm in the storm, and the quiet and sanity have been a saving grace for all three of us. The tiredness of yesterday was that kind of exhaustion that's so heavy it's almost a visible fog, but today has been noticeably better. I've made dozens of calls regarding utilities in NH and CA, changes of address, and the like, and it amazes me that Americans move as frequently as they do (more than 40 million each year, if you believe the stats) given the ridiculous amount of work that is entailed in reorienting one's home and life. Frankly, it sucks.

The reality that we are so soon to be together again as a family is beginning to hit me, and I'm excited but also a little wary. I have been so eager for us to reunite and resume family life for so long that it's clear to me that I'll face some disappointment. That's just human nature. I've done a lot of work in my consulting practice around 'reentry' for prisoners and juvenile deliquents when their detention is complete, and while I realize our case is entirely different, the term and some of the challenges associated with it stick in my mind. It's a hard time. There is a lot of anticipation, and life is very different than what one has come to experience as 'normal.'

One of the best pieces of advice I've received throughout this process is from an older work colleague of mine who has moved a number of times. He basically said to me, "What you are doing in this move is more important than anything else you are doing in your life. The choices you make and how you live will affect your family and your life enormously across years and decades. Keep your heart soft, and don't allow any root of bitterness to build up within you." That is very apt, and very wise. (These are the times that I love working with seasonsed, mature Christians for faith-based projects!) So that has been, and continues to be, my prayer...

Of playgrounds and such

We've emerged onto the playground scene over the past few weeks, as suddenly J. now adores them. He, Q. and I hit three over the past two days, the highlights being one with the five CT cousins yesterday (even got a group shot of all the seven kids in which none looked horrid - a true feat; see below) and a rendezvous at another one today in middle Connecticut with old friends who trekked up from NJ to meet us. [Second photo below is of the two firstborn boys.]

How cheering and heart-encouraging are dear, longstanding friends. We hadn't seen this family in nearly two years, at which time Q. and their youngest baby weren't alive. But spending time with them today was stabilizing and refreshing at the same time. Soul-wise, it was a bit like flopping down on a favorite hammock to watch the clouds rolls by. More than worth the trip. I also found it inspiring to spend time with a family with four young kids in which the parents still seemed very much themselves, and normalcy seemed more prevalent than chaos for the two and a half hours we spent together.

We returned to my parents' house late this afternoon, which is empty for a few days -- a relief. The kids desperately need some quiet time to decompress, and I do too. (Yesterday was full of plans, crate-purchases, and arrangements to fly our dog out to CA in mid-July.) I managed to scrape up my forehead playing hide and seek around a tree with J. within an hour of arriving, which I could have done without. Also a rental property issue cropped up, nothing too major, but it put me over the edge a bit mentally. I thought of the annoying Nextel message I often get when I'm trying to reach Y. that says, "please hold while the subscriber you are trying to reach is located." ...And thought how nice it would be if anything new trying to come my way could get a message like that rather than the real me, live...

Departure

It poured with rain this afternoon during my last few hours in the house before leaving. It seemed fitting, somehow, as I sorted through trash, packed my clothes, and tucked in the house for its short hibernation before new tenants move in on July 15. It was like a crying and a cleansing at the same time. "God is sad you're leaving NH," my brother-in-law joked as the rain picked up once the truck was finally and fully loaded. I said, "he better not be, since he's the reason we're leaving NH and the farm at all!"

I am weary, weary beyond words, and I actually managed to develop shin splints during the moving process - how embarassing and unhelpful is that? But also profoundly thankful and somewhat amazed to have got it done and actually now have reached this point after months of planning and expecting. The process of waiting a long time for something to happen, being unable to imagine or really believe that it will actually occur, is so teaching about our spirits. It will be what arriving in heaven will feel like one day, I think -- "So it's real and we're actually here! And this is what it's like, after decades of anticipation."

My brother-in-law was an absolute star yesterday and today, and it's humbling to be the recipient of such willingly bestowed, fanfare-lacking assistance. It's always a little amazing when someone has a certain skill or giftedness, can recognize it in himself, sees a need for it to be utilized, and steps in to help where only he can. It makes faith-in-action seem so tangible when often it is just a theory.

I really enjoyed him over the past few days -- it felt like a bonding time. I've noticed the same with Y's parents as we've collaborated over the past few months on childcare - I feel much closer to them than I did before this journey. That kind of confirmation is comforting as we really kick this thing off...

Truck-loading day

Sometimes in life, a new 'era' comes upon us unexpectedly. The day we first meet the person who will become our spouse, for example, or the day a loved one dies. Other times the new era is foreknown and can be anticipated, like a pregnancy, a job change, a graduation. Or a move. I can think of few instances where the change in our 'era' as a family has been starker than what we're now about to embrace. Even having a new baby seems less intense (though that may be just because I'm now in the moment of the move). The future is almost entirely unknown... what our life will look like, who our friends will be, what we'll do for fun, where we'll go to church. It is very weird.

The moving truck is now, 8 hours (half rainy) and 8 participants later, nearly full. Tomorrow it will be 2 or 3 hours of work for three of us to get it finished, and it'll be done. The house is strewn with the remains, dustbunnies, and wrappers of recent inhabitation, but there is no living to be done here without furniture or food -- so my brother-in-law and I went out for pizza and a movie, which was very nice. And tomorrow will be Pray Creek push-off.

The moving truck...

The moving truck was just delivered to our house, which was rather more overwhelming that I would have expected. There's something about seeing a huge, gaping empty box and envisioning it filled up with all one's earthly possessions that elicits a real sense of being untethered. Besides, packing it "tightly so things don't rattle around," as Dave, the drop-off man, instructed seems well beyond my skill set. Thank God for my brother-in-law and brother.

I've decided to go ahead with this blog, in part because even if I end up only writing for myself, that in itself will prove fruitful, as writing for me is like therapy - calming and orienting. It will be a good exercise for me, at least in the first few weeks of this move process.

It is strange that today is the last day that the kids and I will spend on the farm together, going through our normal routines. It is stranger still that neither of them realizes this. That both children are too young to be aware of what is going on is a relief and a sadness to me at the same time. Most of me is very glad that they are too young to 'get it' and won't feel the impact of all that we're experiencing... it is a blessing and makes my life much easier. But my instinct, I realize, is to carry the weight of all this for them instead. When Y first left five months ago, for example, it was heartbreaking for me to think of J. being without his dad for such a long stretch - the loss this was to him in his day-to-day life. J's very cluelessness about it added to the pathos for me, and made me feel all the sadder for him. I feel this same way now when we say goodbye to our friends and he doesn't realize that it isn't just goodbye for today, but rather goodbye for a long while...

Worth considering...?

My dear friend Michelle asked me if I'd thought about creating a blog for after our move, to stay in touch and record some of the changes we'll certainly experience in our life. Frankly, I hadn't. It seems like a decent idea, however, especially since I do enjoy writing so much, and since there will no doubt be stories to tell.

So two weeks in advance of packing up the homestead here for our journey west, I figured I might as well dangle my toe in the water and figure out whether this is worth considering.