Just over two months ago, I began what I imagined would be a series of blog posts detailing the long, drawn-out, and emotionally fraught process that has been my relocation from Bloomington to Boston. This is only the third post in that “series”.
The best of intentions, right…?
At any rate, I just finished dismantling my desk, which is about the most psychologically significant step in the moving process I can imagine. It’s the focal point of my day-to-day existence, and to see it lying in pieces in the corner of my office suddenly makes this move more real than anything else thus far.
I got ambushed with goodbyes yesterday. Alexander and I scheduled brunch with the Butlers, a family I’ve been close to for some time. Turns out, Sheila — the mother of the bunch — just “happened” to mention to a few other people that we’d be there. So without warning, just as our meal was ending, a slow but steady stream of well-wishers began showing up at her front door. It was very touching, and completely unexpected. Luckily, one such well-wisher had her eight-month old with her, which meant I could focus most of my attention on the baby (SUCH A CUTE BABY!!!) instead of dealing with the sudden onslaught of sadness that came with saying goodbye to everyone.
I really hate saying goodbye.