Ah, the big moving day. Except that it
wasn't. Since our movers had come nearly two weeks before, in my mind
the day of the flight would be a day of packing and chucking (and
hopefully some donating). In the days leading up to departure my
husband was concerned we weren't doing enough to get ready. He spent
large parts of the day sorting, trashing, and making runs to
Goodwill. I did some of that too, but I was more focused on seeing
and spending time with my closest friends. Turns out the hub was in
fact correct. The night before departure, I sent messages to three friends
asking for help. Thankfully they not only showed up but went above
and beyond because otherwise we would never have gotten out the
door.
I know sometimes people make statements
like the above for drama or exaggeration sake, but as god is my
witness, in all the seriousness available in the known universe, we
would never have made our flight without help. On the one hand I'm
sorry that I didn't heed my husband's warnings and I cringe when I
think of what we left behind. I feel bad for asking good friends to
do jobs I should have done, though that IS what friends are for in an
emergency. On the other hand, I think I would regret far more several
days of arduous cleaning, trashing, clearing,
packing/unpacking/repacking and donating, which would have been
almost as stressful as the one crazy day, to then depart with more
“things” and less hugs.* I did not leave anything behind that I
cannot live without. At Christmas, I rushed to meet false deadlines
and I have deep regrets about doing so. Obviously, a plane ticket is
not a false deadline! But I like to think what I learned at Christmas
was that ignoring my instincts is a pathway to poor choices in the
care of my soul.
So on the day, insanity. One of my friends came over and literally sorted, boxes, trashed and found things I'd forgotten about for two hours longer than I'd asked her to and never once made me feel about it. Then, in the
half hour before we had to leave for the airport we had to pack an
extra bag, handily brought by one of the life-saver friends, and just chuck/leave a number of things like shoes, toys
and books that were too bulky. A friend came over to help us out the
door and he ended up doing far, far more (bless him) by returning to
the house and pulling out things he thought we might need. I was also
trying to coordinate the move out clean, some handyman jobs, and a
carpet cleaner by phone on the way to the airport.
I dropped the kids and JAG off at the
airport, where our friend helped them check-in while I returned the
rental car. Again, the state of that car. Wow. Sorry rental car
company cleaning guys. Hope those shoes I left fit someone you know.
At the terminal I found my husband
looking, well, despondent really. We got all checked-in and had to
say goodbye to our friend. He snapped a picture of us departing and
posted it to fb. People who saw this photo, that's no illusion, JAG
was really overwhelmed all of a sudden with the leaving. He and I
really do sort of take turns getting overly emotional, which is for
the best I think. Lord help us if we ever loose our shit at the same
time.
The flight was, well, how do you think?
Seven hours in a noisy, stuffy tin can? With two kids you want
desperately to sleep? Little man kept insisting on sleeping on JAG,
not letting us take turns much. And WeeC just wanted to watch the TV
screens. And hear let me thank American Airlines again for using the
oldest, crappiest plane on the only nonstop flight to the UK from our
local airport. Neither parent slept. Upon landing and taking the very
long walk to immigration, we were thankfully greeted with a short
line. It was one of the easiest exits we've had. Of course, since our plane was 45 minutes early, that meant my sister-in-law hadn't arrived
yet. We killed time by sitting listlessly and trying to keep the
children from climbing nearby travelers.
Eventually, with the much needed help
of the in-laws, we arrived to our new abode. We had ordered some
furniture and my SIL and her husband set it up for us, including our
beds. They had done a few things to make it feel homey, which was quite sweet really. They stayed to
help us for a little bit and then left so naps might be taken. After
the stressful departure from the US it was, as you'd expect, quite
anti-climatic.
Then came the knock at the door. I opened it with a face that said, "If you're selling something, I am NOT in the mood." But on
our sparkling new doorstep stood two of JAG's best friends and a new
friend, baring gifts. I was shocked. JAG was gob smacked. Then we
were delighted. It was one of the nicest sites and kindest gifts I've
ever received. Friendly faces. Maybe this whole crazy move will be worth it.
*My husband saw friends too and was
also at work until two days before our departure; I don't mean to
imply he chose jobs over friends, he was just more able to see people
in the days before the crunch than I was with two kids at home :)
