Moving and love and crying.

When you love something, when you really love something you let it break your heart.  You don't sign up for the heartbreak too willingly but you do.

I keep weeping these days. Goodbye friends. Goodbye my kid's reliable school. Goodbye lovely summer. Goodbye a fine network of all different people. Goodbye ordering local food on my phone. Goodbye established raised beds. Goodbye August plums warm from the sun. Goodbye.

Let's be honest the litany of goodbyes that don't break my heart is also strong.  Goodbye white progressives who cannot listen. Goodbye gray gray winter.  Goodbye gray gray spring. Goodbye gray gray fall.  . .

I have had a weeping jag each day for probably a week. Someone says something or someone give me a tiny note and my heart falls out of my chest and lands on my hand and I have to cry it out.  Last week it happened in the driveway while I was visiting with a neighbor.  This morning I was eating a waffle and reading a note from a friend. Last night it was as I left a goodbye dinner and a friend hugged me well and a poopy toddler clung to my leg screaming to play with the croquet hammer for longer.

This process takes endurance.

We are not going to be able to move into our Indiana house until at least August 23.  As such we are going to be renting a furnished apartment somewhere in the city.  We probably won't really move in until September and hopefully have time to install new floors and do some painting while we aren't living in it.    The list of details is astronomical.  Sean is managing so many of them. I seem to be the packing, cleaning and staging leader.

Someday, probably in November- maybe October things will slow down and all of this will become more real. . .