Tales from a Mid-Lifer

Wrapping up the moving tales today…Here are a few clips from the first days adjusting.

Day 1

As we pulled the UHaul into the new temporary apartment complex, I watched mamas take first day of school pics of their little ones. These fresh faces are our new neighbors.

Boxes piled up on every surface and floor while my son and his team of friends lugged up the only-necessary furniture.

How do I still have too much stuff? Remember when I purged it in the post Moving: The Stuff?

Treasures like photo albums are in the spare room. The rest resides in storage.

Back at home, there was a closet full of “backups”. Everything from deodorant to olive oil to the 30-pack of TP.

Not in an apartment. I quickly learned that you buy as you need.

Day 2

Cleaning a small table for a TV in a spare room, I decided it would be faster to go outside, spray it with the hose and let it dry in the sun. 

No hose. 

No outside water spicket.

Lease says no car washing. 

Day 3 

I look around, hearing Dorthy in the Wizard of Oz: “Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

My previous view of trees and sky through the windows have been replaced by other people’s windows across the way. Not super close but close enough.

I really do close the door when I enter a bathroom. Not this day. Not positive, but it’s possible that the neighbor across from our building saw me sit down🤦🏼‍♀️. The bathroom is off the main bedroom but if I can see their shadows … well … I like all curtains opened in the morning. Yeah. I’ll never forget to close a door again😉.

Day 4

The cable guy.

The cable installer doesn’t at all resemble the cable guy comedian, nor Jim Carey in the movie, The Cable Guy.

He is however, much too comfortable in our new abode. The young man walks through the living room, toward the back bedrooms, pulling open pantry doors…?

“What are you doing?” I ask.

He mumbles and walks toward a bedroom where I point like a Mama and redirect.

“What are you looking for?” I ask, using a stronger tone.

“Electrical box.” He finally sputters.

Again I point. This time to the laundry room.

Then, a property manager comes in to examine the sliding glass doors. Four dudes were wandering around the premises like I didn’t own the place.

Oh right. I don’t.

Day 5

We find out at 3PM that we are closing on the house tomorrow morning.

I pick up a colorful autumn bouquet and put it in one of my own vases, write a card and set it up for the new family. We have the keys laid out next to the flowers and the congratulations. I asked my husband if he would like to have a moment together, walk the property etc. He says no, he’s good, we’ve done it ten times in recent weeks. After a hug, he leaves.

I wander through the empty rooms for the final time, thinking about games played and holidays celebrated.

This season of life is over and I’m still nostalgic. I lamented the sentiment in previous posts, including this one: The Reminiscing.

I pull open all the blinds and curtains. When the sun shines through the windows tomorrow, I want the sunbeams to make everything sparkle for the young couple who have a newborn.

Walking outside, it’s QUIET. I hear crickets. No other activity. It’s the end of the “season” in several ways.

The little cottontail just happens to be out to say goodbye. He stops and we stare at each other for a few minutes before he’s back to eating.

I smile at the fire pit that my children burned their notebooks in every June – all the s’mores we toasted – the music we listened to around the fire.

Back toward the driveway, I look down, thinking about my youngest always writing in chalk, tracing her shadows, even as a teenager.

I Snapchat the landscape to the fam one final time before climbing into my vehicle-traveling down the long driveway for good.

Thank you for reading and have a blessed week ahead!