after years of dreaming of living on vancouver island and months of planning, we’re in the home stretch! our car is en route, all our worldly possessions have been boxed up and loaded into a moving truck, we’ve said goodbye to our house and started our journey west by moving… about 50 km to my parents’ house for a few days. we’re pausing here to give our moving truck a few days’ head start on us and to make sure both houses (the one we just sold and the one we just bought) close without issue this coming week.
i’d love to be able to say that the hardest part is behind us — organizing a cross-country move is a pretty involved endeavour — but wednesday will see us travel 8–10 hours with our cat and toddler, arrive at a house that has nothing in it save for some firewood and a questionable armchair and negotiate a 3 hr time change. did i mention frankie is getting her one-year molars? after wednesday, we’ll spend 1–2 weeks in our empty house, cleaning, painting, removing the aforementioned firewood and questionable armchair, installing a new washer and dryer, sourcing daycare, trying to convince frankie rose to sleep in a pack ‘n’ play in a room without window coverings. so i don’t think we’ve reached the summit quite yet. in fact, there’s a storm coming. but we are so, so excited.
and so, so sad at the same time.
pulling out of our driveway for the last time, knowing we’d never be returning to this house as our home (we probably won’t be able to resist a slow drive-by next time we’re in the neighbourhood), was so hard. a few people have asked me what i’ll miss most once we move, and the true answer is: my little bungalow. terrible that it’s not… you know… not an inanimate object? but i have supreme confidence in my relationships and in my ability to maintain them, so “goodbye” as it relates to people hasn’t really been an issue for me. i know i will talk to and see my family and friends with great frequency; nothing is going to change except we’ll be separated physically by an extra few thousand kilometres. but i really had to say a true goodbye to my house — it’s not mine anymore and i can’t control what happens to it, whether it’s even still standing next month.
i said goodbye to my garden, bursting with the possibility of peonies — they won’t bloom until next month. i said goodbye to frankie’s nursery, where i’ve paced the same six steps with her in my arms for the past sixteen months. i said goodbye to our living room, where we’ve listened to a hundred baseball games on the radio. i said goodbye to our front porch, dozens of books read and glasses of wine downed. i said goodbye to my front garden, secretly pleased that the dwarf spruce tree pierre threatened to cut down every year is still standing. and i said goodbye to everything that hasn’t happened yet, and won’t because we’re moving. navigating this “in between” stage, where we’ve said so long to our old house but haven’t yet begun to create new memories in our new house, is a little hard. but not as hard as 8–10 hours in the car/on the plane with archie and frankie… wish us luck!