We've reached that point. You know, the point where we don't live here anymore but all our stuff is here. We are halfway between packed up and living in jumble.
The problem is, my brain won't stop. OK, I know, that's a normal thing for me, the constant whirring. But in this case my mind is focused. Focused on the million tiny things left to do. Like double checking that all the clothes are clean and ready to be packed. Like making sure I've cleaned out my office so that stray trash won't get shipped across country. Like examining the floors and marvelling at how much trash a family makes in just a few days. Especially when they are cleaning things out.
Tomorrow the movers arrive. They are going to pack up our life's collection into a truck. They're going to box up the Michigan phase of life and stow it for safe keeping. There is no going back now, no changing our mind. Our future lies somewhere over the horizon, south and west.
These million little pieces and thoughts will eventually merge back together into a whole person. Hopefully a better person. Some parts of me will be left behind, their roots to deep in the Michigan soil, while others are already stretching out ahead.
It's a strange thing, being broken up like this. Here but not here. There but not there. Balanced somewhere in between and waiting.
Launch in 3