Major transitions happening. M A J O R. Now. This very moment.Truck coming in a few hours. A month ago this date, November 2, was just a block on the calendar. Now, everything in boxes–approximately 70 boxes which is stunning in itself. And the other stunning piece is that I actually bought the boxes. Did not succumb to my passion for dumpster diving behind big box stores. And they–the boxes–in about a month–will be listed on craigslist–“free moving boxes”–
And it all feels so surreal. Meaningless is some big way. And silly. I have to say this–that having all of this stuff just seems silly.
Hope has monitored the entire process. She’s anxious. Confused. All of her nesting spots have disappeared. Except me. My lap.
Watching. Wondering.
And because this blog is a record of my days–a reminder to self of what was–I’m recording this now to remember…to remember a life that is no longer here. Somewhere, for sure. Just not here. The grandfather of boy child. A fine fine man. Suddenly, Thursday night, in his sleep, moved on…out…into….It was a shock. The suddenness of it. I remind self that this is how I’ve always said I would choose to pass. But now I’m revisiting that idea. And wondering. Looking at a belief I’ve parroted for ever. The notion that we do, in fact, choose the path of our exit. Is that so? Now I’m not sure.
And this morning, lifting up computer to put in a moving box, this doodle slipped out. Made recently, obviously. A doodle because cloth is in a box. But we don’t have to be.
Not sure when I’ll have internet again.
following thread 
Passages, planned, unplanned…condolences Patricia.
To me, there is something about moving at the end of the year although Nov . isn’t exactly year’s end but the season has turned and in some ways, that makes it harder. Just when things are quieting down, we find ourselves adjusting to a new place, putting away, finding where things are to go, maybe even wandering into closets thinking that they are rooms (as happened to me when we moved in October from Maui to Washington), wanting to be done with boxes and needing to settle in…
Moves are upheavals; sometimes we make decisions out of sheer necessity, sometimes out of wondering how it would be and sometimes because the spirit has moved us…with that last thought in mind, blessings to you and yours in your new home. Ttake your time opening, emptying those boxes…we will be here when you are ready to sit with a cup of tea, cloth and the continuation of your days to share with all of us.
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the thoughts of this–that you will be here when I return–i simply cannot express what that means….
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moving is always chaos to me. i get very confused.
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chaos and confusion…good descriptors. and center. hi Jude.
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For you I wish the inner silence of snow falling in the blue evening hour. Good luck with your move.
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oh Dana. “inner silence of snow falling…blue evening hour” i hold this image with gratitude
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it’s Happened. You have done it. it’s Monday.
It’s all New.
my love to your family, especially the Grandson.
and to Hope…
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it is that–“all new” and ok. it’s all going ok. even the not so ok stuff.
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here’s a toast to the House Warming!
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if i could drink i’d drink to that!
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