The Big Actual Move, Part 2

I flew back to Utah last week to sort through every item of crap that I own and decide if it was worth keeping. It’s either the coolest thing I’ve ever done or the worst. I realized how much stuff is kept purely because it’s still in working order and I don’t like filling up landfills. I realized how I can immediately know within seconds if I really love something or not—-a skill I honed in Miami when I read Marie Kondo. 

I really love my steam mop. I don’t love camping chairs. 

My sister and her family donated hours of sweaty, hard, messy labor to this effort of clearing out a storage unit and sorting through my girls stuff at my uncle’s house. I was moved to tears several times by their tremendous service. It was one of the most touching acts of love I’ve received. I hope they always know how deeply grateful I am. 

(I don’t have pictures but they exist and I’ll share when I get them)

Me and Lucy flew to NYC today and met the other two girls at the airport, who were flying in from having spent the last month and half with my mom. This touches on another sensitive, grief filled topic. My girls departure today marks the first time my mom has been alone. Ever. The thought of her driving home from the airport to an empty house kept my up all night in tears and achy longing to comfort her. Leah called me several times this week in tears, telling me she didn’t want to leave grandma. Hannah has offered more than once to live with her. We all care so much but I know this is how it must be. 



The lady whonthis picture didn’t get Lucy’s face. She’s on the far right under the yellow blanket. She’s ALWAYS UNDER THE YELLOW BLANKET (“seesaw”). Seesaw goes everywhere, even in a heat advisory like today. I digress. 

The big reunion and trip home was more of a hassle and disappointment than some movie-perfect scene of joy. We had a whopping 12 pieces of luggage plus car seat and stroller. The apartment was boiling hot and the girls were a bit unenthused by how bare and dysfunctional this apartment is right now. Not to mention how hot, humid, smelly and loud the city is. 

Also here’s a classic Leah comment: “I forgot how much your hair sticks up in humidity.”

Anyway, I laid out our master plan of Make Brooklyn Home Again and assured them that this move would probably include a lot of anger, loss, disappointment, etc.  But that doesn’t mean it was the wrong decision. 

On the contrary, I’ve almost never felt so sure that I was just n the right place. Except when I left Brooklyn last year for Utah. 

Comments

Larri-Lea said…
I am in awe of the many little miracles that have helped you and the girls be in NY at this time. I say 'help' because I believe you made the right choice to keep your family together, whether moving to NY was what you had in mind or not. I am so deeply touched by the caring spirits of Hannah and Leah - and all of you - as I enter this new phase of my life, as well. Thank you for the tears and words of comfort and love. I am so grateful for the little miracles that have surrounded your move. You are a miracle, my dear.
August 7, 2018 at 7:44 PM
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