There is something about moving that casts light on the curious balance between material goods serving to make our life better and materials good serving as our life. The hours and hours of sweat that it takes to put all of our things into boxes makes you ask practical questions like "Do I really need this?" while at the same causing you think about all the memories attached to these objects; all the moments in life that they represent and that they may represent one day. Yep, it's a curious balance indeed, but if there is anything that packing our things has caused me to realize over the last couple of days, it is that your life can't fit inside a bunch of cardboard boxes and be hauled on a truck across the country. Life is about the people and the places and the experiences and the love and the faith in something bigger than us. The "stuff" can play an important role, but it's not life itself. I would gladly leave all these boxes of stuff behind and start completely anew if that's what I had to do to get to Gearry and the puppies. My life is not in these boxes... It's already waiting for me in Georgia.
Yesterday, my friend Katie, who was in visiting from Chicago, helped me with the arduous task of wrapping every single piece of glass we own (and we have a LOT of stemware) and packing various other things. This morning, an hour after Katie left, Mom arrived to pick up where we'd left off. If I had to guess, I would say I'm about 90% packed. Mom and Dad are coming up tomorrow to pick up the moving truck and to help me finish the packing. Then -- Friday -- comes the incredibly not-so-fun part: loading the moving truck. Thankfully, I am blessed to once again have friends who jump in and say, "Let us help!" Who actually likes to pack/unpack? No one! That means friends that volunteer to help with enthusiasm as though it would be their pleasure are 1) Really good at acting and 2) Really good in general. Between myself, Mom, Dad, Gearry's parents, and a couple guys from camp, I hope we can knock it out relatively efficiently.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Gearry has been promising for a week now that he would update the blog with his account of his time so far in Savannah, but he keeps "forgetting" and so I am finally giving in and posting because I am spending this Saturday morning/early afternoon sitting outside at Bakehouse, drinking coffee, watching all the people walk by from the farmer's market with fresh baguettes and bags of produce, cyclists zoom by in their spandex-clad packs, runners huffing through today's insane humidity, moms and dads pushing strollers, and other people-watching, coffee-drinking B-Towners like myself. It's just the kind of moment that makes you think, hey, I should share this with everyone because it's so simple yet too good to keep to myself.
Let's see, where are we on July 17th, 2010?
Mom and Dad are currently at Yellowstone National Park. They left Indiana on July 5th and have spent the time since traversing Illinois, Iowa, the Dakotas, Wyoming, and Montana, most of their time spent in the latter. Mom and I speak pretty regularly lon the phone and she's great about texting me pictures of some of the cool things they're seeing, so I know they're having a great time. Their approximate arrival date back in the Hoosier state is July 26th, so I believe they are spending a few more days hanging around the Yellowstone area and then will slowly make their way back.
Gearry is settled in down in Savannah and is loving his new job. I will refrain from sharing too much because I am convinced that I will actually get him to update the blog soon and I would love for everyone to hear about his experiences through his own voice. The guest house we are temporarily renting is in a great neighborhood and he loves the closeness to work (20 min.), downtown (15 min.) and -- most importantly -- the beach (10 min.). He's headed to the beach again as I write to get a little sun, do a little boogie-boarding, and otherwise enjoy life. We're both a little down in the dumps without each other, but reminding each other that the countdown gets smaller and smaller each day. Today? 13 or 14 days, depending on if I decide to hop in my car after we finishing packing the moving truck on the 30th, or be logical and wait until bright and early the next morning, the 31st.
You already know where I am physically -- Bakehouse -- but where I am emotionally is hard to figure out. I never thought I'd miss Gearry and the puppies so much, so it really feels like part of me is with them, and I won't be exactly myself until I join them. I am exhausted from working so many crazy hours at camp, and I am stressed by the fact that within the next two weeks I need to do so much -- like packing the house, which I have still not started since we've been having so many showings -- but there is some joy in my heart for these beautiful Bloomington days and for the adventure I have ahead.