In-between times

Kiddo called me tonight to say she’s having a hard time. Stress, exhaustion, friends being thoughtless douche’s–a pretty typical mix of college girl bullshit raining down that made her sad and need her mommy. We talked through it. Then we talked about when I could come out for her birthday and see her. And our conclusion was… not sure when actually. Spring break she will be traveling for sports. Her actual birthday she also has sports weekend and not in a way that would be conducive to my coming out. And then we start getting into a time frame where I might be out there. Driving out there. To you know, stay on that side of the country. We left it fluid and she’d look into a couple of other weekends. 

When I talked about driving out there, I flashed her a view of my fire engine red bookcases in my living room – to show her I’d been packing. They’re nearly empty. Their emptiness and the moving detritus around the house is increasingly making me feel like this isn’t my home anymore. Which, in a vacuum, is fine. I’ve got to let go of the emotional attachment to it sometime – its representation of safety, and comfort, and well, it’s like living in a big hug because it’s so me. But living in it while it’s being deconstructed and trying to live normally is just stressful. Everywhere I look reminds me that I’m living in a limbo. And it’s making me sad. It’s also disheartening to listen to the two of us try and figure out any weekend near her birthday that would work for a visit and coming up pretty empty handed. So when I got off the phone with her, I cried huge crocodile tears.

Photo by arash payam on Unsplash
Image of a person in a black dress in the middle of a desert with hills with a paper bag over their head and frown on the bag

I’m trying to focus on possibilities and future and the newness of a blank slate to make into a home and safety and comfort. When I get overwhelmed, I google different towns I’m looking at – their downtown or events calendar or whatever and see things like old town theaters still showing black and white films weekly 🙂 Or one of my favorite techno swing bands playing there for cheap tickets. I look at the county hashtag on instagram and admire photos of the ocean or a river or pond or old barn. And I feel the excitement and wonder of a new adventure seep through for a few moments. Long enough to help me feel braver and stronger and ready to put the tears aside and work or pack another box. If I’m honest, I’m also a bit shocked at how emotional all this is for me. I’ve been waiting to leave here almost since the day I got here. 16 years later and I’m So color me the most surprised of anyone to have all this sadness.

This in between time won’t last – not for me and not for kiddo. If I were out there, I could drive out after work on Friday and spend Saturday with her. This freaking Saturday. I could be close enough to go down and see her and hug her and hold her. We could go be silly together and get recharged. I know she won’t want or need that often, but on a day like today where she’s in tears and I can barely resist shedding my own as we talk, it would be a realistic possibility.

Possibilities. My life is full of them right now. We will get through this. I will get through this and this time next year, I’ll hardly remember how I came close to crying most mornings. I’ll be planning a garden for a new yard. Taking early morning, foggy, cold walks by the beach. There is everything to look forward too.

Photo by Reiseuhu on Unsplash
Image of a pedestrian bridge over a small stream with trees in the background; not from where I’m moving, but maybe I could find something like this when I explore there.

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