Moving in December was painful and traumatic. I had to pack up or donate 25 years worth of items and memories, not only my own stuff, but my mom’s as well. There were complications and without the help of my friends, I’m pretty sure the experience would have been much worse.
I signed an eight month lease for my current apartment, figuring that I could decide where to go from there. I was going to try to find another, larger place, hopefully with a small yard for the dogs, but then Mom died, followed by Roxy. After so much loss, I was grasping for anything familiar and had decided to renew my lease. I really wasn’t up for another move and I needed some stability.
I’m moving in with the person I love next month. I didn’t expect this to happen quite so fast, but it seems like the universe had other plans and the decision was pretty easy to make. I’ve been joking that at least half of my stuff is still in boxes, so that’ll save some headaches. Moving means going through my mom’s belongings and deciding what to let go of, which has already led to tears. I know the physical things are not the ones that matter, but it feels like yet another piece of her that is disappearing.
Life is moving forward in unexpectedly beautiful ways.