Moving, Part 1

Boy, did I forgot how much moving sucks. Makes a lot of sense to me what Marilyn, our dithery real estate agent told me: Realtors try to move about every five years to remind themselves how awful it is. Thinking that maybe we should do the same, since I never want to have to go through this again. Or as I told Dad this afternoon, who said I'll never have to do this alone again, "The next time, hopefully it'll be Rachel moving me into an assisted living facility and I'll be too old to care about possessions anymore."

That got a laugh. Hey, at least I have somewhat of a sense of humor left.

Anyway, the movers came and forgot to pack up a bunch of things. Apparently they are also incapable of taking down wall hangings because, you know, they involve nails. And the ones that don't involve nails and are simply hung from the crown moldings and need nothing more than a little nudge to come down -- well, they're waaay too complicated to deal with. So, after they left I went around the house taking things down with a hammer and a Philips screwdriver. Then I started cleaning out what's left of the food in the refrigerator. We have about five huge bags of garbage, plus recycling, that I'll have to haul to the curb tonight. I have no idea what time they'll start loading the truck tomorrow, but I hope it's after I get Rachel home from preschool. This whole thing hasn't gone as smoothly as I'd anticipated, which is a shame but there's really nothing I can do except stay up late, finish all the tasks I can and hope we make it out of here without having extra boxes of stuff that I'll have no idea what to do with.

Tonight was also bittersweet -- it was the last trek to Hot Lips Pizza, playing in the Jamison Fountain and getting chocolate sorbet at Cool Moon Ice Cream. They're all within a block or two of each other, and on really hot days, like today, I'd arrange for Rachel, her friend Devin, Devin's mom Linda (who I really like) and, sometimes, Linda's husband Jim to join us for an evening involving all three. This was the last extended time we'll all be able to spend together, and Linda started crying a little at the end because, she said, she's going to miss us. Linda is going through a hard time -- a nightmare work situation where she is disrespected at work, even though she's an award-winning architect; a friend who's going through chemo; a house that she says is a disaster and just general stress all around. I told her to make sure to CALL ME, even if I'm on the road, and I can talk her through things. I had thought that Devin and Rachel would remain besties even though they were heading to different kindergartens. We've promised to keep in touch, and Jim's family lives in Maryland so there's a reasonable chance that we'll see them again, but it won't be the same. And that makes me sad.

Our final week in Oregon

It's down to the last few days, really. Rachel and I leave Oregon on Friday morning with Molly, driving across the country to Minnesota, dropping Molly off in West St. Paul, then continuing on to Madison, WI (to see Drew's best friend Jack) Chicago (to see Ruth, Steve and some friends from college and beyond), Memphis (to see my old boss), Ohio (to see a dear friend and former colleague at the Oregonian), then Roanoke (to see one of my former reporters on the Daily Northwestern), then HOME to Arlington, VA. Can't believe it's finally here.

I've been immersing myself in the chaos of last-minute packing, getting rid of all our food (and, geez, do we have a lot of Tupperware! I am NEVER buying any Tupperware AGAIN), finishing up some projects at work so I can drive unimpeded -- i.e., without checking emails or phone messages -- racing around Portland to eat dinner and lunch with all the friends we can possibly squeeze in, getting the house in shape for the movers to just pick everything up and go, getting my car looked over to see that it's drivable (yes), returning the Comcast cable box, getting my car cleaned so we won't start our drive with gunk all over the seats and floors, etc. etc. All of this craziness is probably a coping method for me to put off having to process leaving a place I've called home for the last 15+ years, a place I hated at first but now have grown to love, a place where I saw my greatest career successes and failures, a place where I really became a grown-up -- bought a house, sold a house, had a child, acquired a circle of friends from different parts of my life (singing, OAJC, chavurah, synagogue, Willamette, Oregonian) -- a place I never thought we'd leave. I'm not sad enough to cry (yet, if ever), it just amazes me that within two months this spring, I was all of sudden ready to go. And now, we're going.

***

"I actually LIKE getting owies," Rachel said, examining her banged-up legs this morning. "That shows that I've been having fun!"

***

"Beauty is not more important than health," Rachel said as she was washing and brushing after breakfast.
"What makes you say that?" I said, astonished, since it came out of the blue.
"Because it's TRUE," she replied calmly.

It amazes me what a good head she has on her shoulders.