Day 1

The preceding 48 hours suuuuucked. For the past 9 months I had slowly, methodically packed away our belongings into boxes. (The items we actually kept anyway.) I was careful to mark each box on the outside with it’s contents so we would know what was inside. The one thing I kept saying is that I didn’t want to end up in the final days throwing random crap into boxes and rushing out the door. So in the final two days of the move, we threw random crap into boxes and rushed out the door. Great. For someone that likes to have everything in it’s proper place this is absolute torture. But this way we did eliminate so much of the “small crap” that didn’t really have a home. And I don’t know if this move could have happened any other way though. If allowed, I probably would have spent another 9 months packing away little things like pens and coasters and wooden spoons into their approved and properly labeled boxes.

So then those rushed and packed boxes made their ways, separately, to our storage unit, to mother-in-law’s basement, to my mom’s house…thus further ensuring, in my mind, that many items will never be seen again. But then again, how can I miss something if I don’t know I’m missing something. At this point I don’t even know what’s in many of those boxes. I pretty much have everything I need with me at present, which begs the question…why store so much? Our 10′ x 15′ rental unit costs $140 per month. After 12 months we will have spent $1680. If someone were to offer me that amount in cash for everything I put in there, I’d probably take it. But for some reason we develop attachments to stuff we think we need and letting go can be hard. It’s funny though, as I’m carrying a couch into storage, it occurred to me that I didn’t really want that couch anymore. Maybe it was because I was carrying it. I hate carrying furniture. The day before I was dead set on keeping it. So now I’m plotting to get rid of it and downsizing to a 10′ x 10′ unit. I think my brain can only handle downsizing in stages. At this stage nothing is safe.

On our way out, we delivered our puppy next door for safe keeping during the month of May. He was met at the door by his younger brother. The two of them will be in heaven together…running and wrestling, sniffing and snorting, snoring and farting. And farting some more. I will miss him terribly.

So we finally settled in at Mom’s. The same house I moved into as a 2-month old baby. Mom still has the same landline after 42 years, and her home is still a hub for just about every child within a 50 mile radius. She watches a bazillion kids throughout the week, so her pantries are always stocked. Ridiculously so. She has 3 full-size refrigerator/freezers, plus another full-size stand alone freezer. Her selection of snacks and sodas, sweets and treats puts Will Wonka to shame. Very little is actually good for you, but every bit of it so very good. I TRY to eat healthy, and as a family we have gotten pretty good about shunning soda and avoiding copious amounts of processed foods, opting for farm co-ops on occasion, and making our own healthy smoothies. But her shelves and cabinets are stocked FULL of food porn, and it beckons me. The flesh is weak man. If our stay here were any longer than 1 month I wouldn’t be able to fit in an RV.

Speaking of an RV, we made an offer on a Class A diesel pusher down in Houston, and it was accepted. So if everything falls into place, we have our next home! Details on that later, assuming it all comes together. Let’s call it cautious optimism.

As we wrapped up day one, God dropped a double rainbow on us, reminding us that it was all going to work out according to His plan, not necessarily ours. He’s probably either amused or annoyed, certainly not surprised, at how we frantically rush around, stressing and worrying about things we can’t control. And not trusting Him to work out all things in His time. So I need to learn, and re-learn, how to relax and let go. Preferably before we get on the road. But not likely. This upcoming trip will test me, over and over.