I remember, long ago, telling my dad one of my dreams as he drove me to school. I chattered on and on about the crazy images I had seen in my sleep and at the end of my long tale my dad told me, very kindly, “It’s not actually that interesting to listen to someone describe their dreams”.
I think this is why I haven’t written that much about our big move. A bit perhaps but not a lot of what I am thinking/feeling/obsessing about. I’m not sure that reading about my excitement, fears and sadness would be all that interesting. This is a food blog after all. If you visit here regularly, chances are that you are looking for healthy vegetarian food or decadent treats. Or perhaps you like reading a bit about my life. Moving is a personal thing but not in the same way that having a challenging child is personal. Moving is kind of boring to talk about or read about. It is even boring to think about, so I haven’t shared much.
But the move is imminent and here is the deal. I think I have readied myself for the big things. I’ve been saying goodbye to my favorite places and my favorite people for weeks now. I feel like I have been blowing kisses to Seattle for months now. I said goodbye to my parents on Thursday and my brothers, sister-in-law and niece and nephew on Sunday. I’ve been going through our house room by room, getting rid of all the things that we no longer need or will not have room for in our new, and smaller, house. Randy and I have signed paperwork to buy and sell houses and we have gotten our kids into school in Oakland. We have mapped out our route to drive south and secured temporary housing while we wait for our new house to close. This move has been pending since June and I feel ready.
Except that Monday night I went to tuck both boys into bed and I realized, just as I was wrapping my body around Spencer’s, that it was his last night in his room. This room that also happens to be the one to which that we brought him home from the hospital. The only room that has ever really been his. Where there once was a crib and a tiny bundle swaddled tight, there is now a big boy bed with Spiderman sheets (although he prefers Batman) and a big boy who got tears in his eyes that he tried to hide from me when I told him it was his last night here. I said, “Spencer, moving is one of the hardest things that people do.” To which he asked, “Harder than fishing?” I cannot tell you how welcome that smile felt on my lips, so close was I to really losing it.
It started to become clear to me in that moment and more so later on when I went in to gaze at both of them as they slept, that it is not just my family, my friends, my house, my career, and our beloved school that I am saying goodbye to. I am also saying goodbye to my past. I have deep roots in Seattle, having moved here when I was five years old and lived here almost ever since. I have memories in just about every corner of this city. I bump into people I know all the time, from all walks of my life. I’m saying goodbye to that past but also the more immediate one. The one where I fell in love with Randy or was newly married or my children were babies. That past is more tangible and it is hard enough for me to say goodbye to that I held onto tiny diapers in Spencer’s room, although he weighs nearly 50 pounds and hasn’t worn a diaper in almost three years.
I am writing this post late at night. There have been many many nights that I have sat up late writing and writing, the only time I can find in my day to get my thoughts and my recipes onto the blog. I finish, shut everything down, turn off all the lights, and make my familiar way up to the boys’ rooms to make sure their blankets are covering their ever-growing bodies, and on into my room and off to bed. The next day holds certainty. Boys I will wrangle, people I will see, errands I will do, food I will cook, exercise I will endure. Now we shift. Uncertainty for the next bit. Until a time, hopefully not in the too distant future, that we will settle into new routines, a new life.
We will take three days to drive south. We will spend the morning of our tenth anniversary river rafting on the Rogue River and then sleep at a motel in Chico, California. We hope to move into our house in the first week of September. I am not sure when I will be back in real time, connected once again to this blog, but I have some posts planned in the interim. I know this year has been the Year Of Blogging Hiatus. I promise I will be back soon.