Ugh.

I am woefully behind on my blog. Life has been unmanageable, and the blogging went out the window.

As you can see, we are moving. Across the country. Long story short, my husband is from Virginia, and our daughter, who is about to graduate from high school, decided on her own to go to college in Virginia. That was my husband’s “get out of jail free card” from Minnesota winter. You see, he’s a southern boy, and has now spent 17 winters in Minnesota, and he’s done. I can’t say I blame him

But here’s the situation. I’m from here. I have many friends and family here, along with my trusted therapist and hairdresser (both essential to my well being). And until 16 days ago, I was living in a home that represented perfect happiness to me – a warm, tranquil, sturdy family home in a killer neighborhood. I have been crying for months about leaving that home.

But in the process of grieving the loss of our house, I learned the difference between bricks and mortar and home. A house is just a house until it is filled with people who love each other. And for that reason, home will be wherever my husband and daughter are.

Currently, that means home is a rented apartment in downtown Minneapolis. Our house sold much sooner than expected, so we are in temporary housing until our daughter finishes up school and a couple of important rock climbing competitions.

In the meantime, the contents of my life from the above photos are on a truck, driven by a stranger, presently somewhere between here and Irvington, Virginia. Ask me how weird that feels. I’d tell you, but then I’d have a breakdown.

My husband left today to meet the truck and oversee the delivery into our new home. I could not go because I am too exhausted from all the disruption of moving. And I developed a horrendous virus in the middle of it, from which I’m still recovering.

My stuff if on a truck, I’m living in an apartment, my daughter is about to graduate from high school, we are moving across the country soon.

How do you think I’m doing with the anxiety? Honestly, better than expected. I’m trying to simply take things as they come and keep things as moderate and balanced as possible. There was a two week period where I felt my head might blow up from trying to keep track of so many details – a double move is VERY complex, plus I was trying to plan my daughter’s graduation party in the midst of it all. And keep regular life going – school lunches, grocery shopping, laundry, making dinner, etc.

But somehow, I am surviving. I really and truly don’t wnt to move. But my daughter is excited about college, my husband wants and deserves to move home (he moved here, after all), so if I wish to remain part of my family (which I do), my one and only option is to move east.

Some days I’m Ok wth it. Others, I cry a lot. 

The best days are when I try to let go of the regrets, and the fears and the what ifs, and just try to see this as part of a larger plan. I’m trying to remain focused on gratitude for all I had here, while keeping my mind open to the upside possibilities of my new life. Truthfully, some days I do better than others, and I think that’s ok.

This is a period of transition, and transitions are never easy. I think the only mistake I can make would be to expect it to be otherwise.

I will keep you posted.

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