February 22nd

The 22nd was cold and drizzly.

It was my second day of moving my things.  When I got up I realized I'd have to wear the same clothes I'd worn the day before since I'd moved all my clothes to the new place. I dragged on my grubbies and got ready to keep on.

On the first trip of the day, my 13 year old daughter came with me.  She helped me carry some things in and then set to work hanging artwork.

She would move things around and then say "I'm feeling this here."  Then she'd fetch a couple of push pins to hang whatever she was placing.

When we were done I took her back home and I put more things in the car.  My good friend Chris was going to come help me in the afternoon with one of my 3 pieces of furniture.  I filled the time packing up containers, putting them in the car, moving them, emptying them and repeating the process.

While I was carrying my dresser drawers out, a couple of my son's friends were walking by.  One of them yelled "Hey, what are you doing?" 

"I"m moving."  I called back.

"Why?"  she asked me.

"Um, because I am."  I had no idea how to answer that. 

"Yeah, Will told us about it.  I'm sorry." 

I was flabbergasted.  This was the second child who had told me they were sorry.  One of my daughter's best friends had said almost the same thing to me the day before.  I had no idea what to say to them.  I just thanked them.

My friend arrived and we were able to take the small desk I'd be using as a vanity over in her car.  There was a surprising amount of space in the back of her little SUV.  She offered to help me with the other 2 pieces later in the week.  I accepted readily.  I needed all the help I could get. 

Once I had completed my trips for the day, I asked Scott if he would come help me with my router.  I had internet service set up to start that day, but I didn't know how to set up the actual equipment.  We'd take the kids and I'd buy everyone dinner afterwards.

The whole weekend had been uncomfortable for me.  Having the kids' dad in my new place was even more uncomfortable, I think for both of us.  The kids ran around while he got me online.  I thanked him and we went for something to eat.

After I delivered them back home, I loaded up one more time and got ready to go.

I kissed both the kids goodnight and headed out the door.

I'd created a fantasy where Scott and I would hug goodbye and cry and ask each other how we'd gotten here.  Of course, that didn't happen.   I told my children I'd see them the next day and I left.

I drove to my new house, to live by myself for the first time, thinking "I just walked out on my children." 

Once I was inside I got myself busy putting things away.  I was listening to a Pandora station while I sorted stuff out.  Then Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" played.  I found myself standing in my new bathroom crying.  Not sobbing.  Not yelling. Just standing there with tears running down my face.

I stopped for the night. I took a shower.  I got into bed.

Eventually, I slept.