We are back in the city for our final pack up and move out. Left one kid and one dog with my parents to make things easier (unfortunately we left the easy kid and easy dog with them… ? ) The Uhaul pods come soon and we are already starting to run on minimal supplies.
The “Last suppers” are rolling out with the friends, the goodbyes starting to be said, and even though it isn’t goodbye, just see you soon, but there is still something bittersweet about it.
There are a few that are more family than friend. The ones you always run to for a cup of sugar (or spare diaper). The friends that end up in your backyard and dinner is suddenly expanded to suit a crowd.
It is hard to imagine just how important these people are to your life until you realise that they won’t be there all the time in a few short days. How much you rely on them for laughter, and neighborly support.
So we ate, and drank (I blame sangria every time) and talked about all the great times, and how we can adapt our relationship to manage the distance, how our kids will always remember. We sobbed (well, I sobbed) as the hard reality hit.
People keep asking if I am excited.
Excitement is such a tricky thing. I almost feel like I am pulling off a band aid, the protective covering that has kept me from my dreams, but also buffered all the risk. I understand I need to rip this band aid off to realise all my opportunities, to chase my dreams and have the potential to be truly happy… but sometimes keeping things covered seems easier.
So excited… terrified more like it. Passionate to be through the next step of driving away from this place that was a first home to our 3 babies. Where we buried numerous hamsters and had extraordinary parties. Eight and a half years of life, soon to be just history and memories.
And I hope, hope, hope, we will bring the friends that are family along with us into the future! That the ferries won’t deter them too much and we can bribe them with good food and wine!
That usually works with this crowd anyway, so I have confidence!