Wrapping Up Our Lives

They say that the two most stressful life events are moving into a new home and a death in the family. I don't really know who "they" are, but having experienced both a couple of times, I think there is some truth to the sentiment. On the one hand, however, this move is probably the easiest one I will ever experience since I do not have to pack a single item, and have been, literally, blogging and watching General Hospital all day while the movers are packing up my house. Even Asha is at her grandmother's so that we can steer clear of the movers. On the other hand, there are so many things to take care of in this move. We needed to separate everything we own - all the junk in our house, items in the attic that we never think about, and the clothes in our closets - since some items will go with us to Mexico and others will stay behind in a storage that, for all intents and purposes, we won't be able to access for two years. We have to sell our house, close bank accounts, open new credit cards for Mexico, terminate our car insurance, etc., etc., etc.

And then there's the matter of learning Spanish. Since Sonny took it in high school and college, he has been able to really pick it up again through Berlitz. I, on the other hand, took French for six years, and keep pronouncing words with a bad French accent and using the wrong article in front of nouns. I have, however, mastered the numbers 1-20 and the colors of the rainbow.

The never ending "To Do'" list, however, is actually helping us get excited and keeping life interesting. The difficult part of the process is emotionally letting go of our lives in NJ. We love this house, this town, our routine here, our friends, and our family. No matter how excited we are about our move, the truth is that everything is changing and will never again be the same even when we come back.

Tuesday night was in fact our last night in this house. I felt weepy as I continued sorting through our items for storage and packing Asha's and my bags for the next month. This was our first house, the one that I brought my baby home to, where I have a routine that I love. It's strange to watch the movers wrap up the leather chair I sit on while I drink my morning coffee, and take take apart Asha's crib. I keep wanting to say "no, don't pack that yet, we'll need it later today." As the closets are emptied, the furniture wrapped and the boxes stacked, the rooms are engulfed in an air of sadness, as though they themselves are being stripped of life.