Hey guys,
In two weeks (minus one day), Husband and I will be moving to our new city.
I've been waiting for the sadness over leaving our where-we-live-now City for months now. I was waiting for it so vigilantly and yet not sensing it that I had started to think it just wouldn't arrive.
Certainly, we're moving to another great city, where many friends are waiting for us and our new home will be extraordinarily wonderful and my new job is extremely exciting. Our City hasn't served us in lots of little, accumulating ways for a long time; not enough space, money, or time for too long hardened my heart against it, both because that hardening is somewhat justified and because I needed to steel myself against feeling the loss of what we were giving up to step into the next chapter of our lives. It made sense to simply feel ready to leave. Perhaps, it made sense that the sadness would never come.
But here it is.
It sent its first harbinger two weeks ago, when I took a day off work to a) take some time to enjoy the City and b) try to use up some of my unexpectedly large reserve of vacation time. I went to see a movie at my favorite this-City movie theater, with the plan to follow up with the most passable version of Mexican food I've been able to find since moving here almost seven years ago.
The theater plays the same sweet, exuberant little animated sequence before every feature, during which it lays down the law about the behavioral expectations of its audience (including, "NO FIGHTING" and the equally important "NO BITING"). It then concludes with what it boldly promises to offer in return: NO BAD MOVIES. Tears instantly slid down my face. Oh I will miss this place.
Last night, some of our most precious friends celebrated our departure with us. It was so good. It's so good to so fully enjoy the company of other human beings.
Upon returning to our neighborhood and our little street, quieted and made orangey black by late night street light, the sadness finally arrived full-strength. I have taken for granted this little street, and had even begun to feel relieved to be leaving it, and yet for almost seven years, it's been so willingly and consistently ours. But in two weeks, it'll never be ours again.
I woke up this morning to my mind desperately searching for ways to squeeze more contact out of this City before we go. Could I go see that park I love? Or that museum? When's the next time I see my friends? What about the time after that? But what about after that?
I want to cling to the promise left in these two weeks (minus one day) that I can still fully be here, even as I pack my belongings and leave my job and say goodbye to people and places I love so much I let them feel so comfortably like home, like they were mine, that I somehow thought I could leave them and still have them.
The merciful thing about most people and most places is that they do, at least for a time, remain. I can and will come back, and I can still love these people and things even though I leave. But suddenly, in my sadness, I want to snatch up and cling tightly to as many things as I can to fend off my grief at knowing I'll be saying goodbye to them very soon. It's so much harder to sit in the sadness and see that there's no averting each of these goodbyes.
I love this City because it loves movies. I love it for many other reasons too. I love my friends because they love movies. Last night, we talked about the films we've walked out of (or fell asleep during) and spent several minutes naming our favorite quotes from a favorite TV series (to the consternation of one of us). I also love them for too many other reasons to ever possibly honor fully here.
But for our purposes here, in this forum, here is my immense sadness to say goodbye to this City and these people who love movies with me.
Here is my immense wish to grasp these things tightly and deny my inevitable departure.
Here is my immense gratitude that this sadness is so great, since it points to so much joy brought into my life by these precious people and places.
And here is my loving goodbye.
{Heart}
