When we grabbed hold of this opportunity to relocate to Texas we knew that it would mean a lot of change to things that have been so normal to us. Over the past few weeks we have gone out to the city, spent a lot of time with family, taken more pictures, visited friends we haven’t seen in ages, and just try to soak up all that we love about California. Our reality is going to be changing and it hasn’t felt real until this week.
This week we said our final, “I’ll be seeing you,” to my parents, my In-law’s, and my best friend. We also got about a million cardboard boxes and several yards of masking tape to start packing AGAIN. This part of my life seems to be on repeat. This year alone we have moved twice already (including this move). By the end of the year we are hoping to make our final move to our new home. Three big moves. Part of me knew this would happen and the other part of me feels so overwhelmed by moving that I don’t know where home really is anymore.
When we met with every person that we have said our final,”I’ll be seeing you,” we have always left it without goodbye. We don’t feel like this is goodbye. This is our home. California will always feel like home to us. We were raised here and are familiar with the people, the places, the smells, even the ugliness. We know California, so when we start taping up our cardboard boxes we can’t help but reminisce.
I box away baby clothes for Parker, see underpants that Peyton just doesn’t fit in anymore, or find Prestons old do-do-ded (his word for Mickey Mouse, we have no clue how he came up with it) and I see how our life has so quickly changed, that it does scare me a little for our next change. Can we stop life for a minute? Can I just relive some moments and bask in their glory a while? Our walks around Chico and lower Bidwell Park… Our trips to the flea market and the Pacifica Pier…Our wedding day and all the rain… The birth of our children… Our first house… Reliving these little moments make me feel better as I pack away the memories.
My Mom and Ben has always loved John Mayer at times like this – where change and life is just filled with new and uncertain adventures – and they always refer to his song “Stop This Train”. I am at the point of feeling like his lyrics:
Stop this train
I want to get off and go home again
I can’t take the speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t
But, honestly, won’t someone stop this train?
I know the lyrics all too well. Our future is right around the corner and as anxious as I am at times to get to where I want to go, it can feel like I am traveling at the speed of light. I feel like my life could use a good pause every now and then, but I remember:
“Don’t stop this train
Don’t for a minute change the place you’re in
And don’t think I couldn’t ever understand
I tried my hand
John, honestly, we’ll never stop this train”
My train is moving whether I like it or not. With every sealed and labeled box. With every roll of tape exhausted and box lined against the wall I see my train move. I am scared. I am not scared of making the move. I am scared of what it will mean when we are done. I am scared of the future. I am scared of not knowing what will happen next. My “Type-A” personality is begging for some hint or vague idea of what will come after our move.
I guess it’s just time to ride the train and see where it takes me.