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Moving is a Bitch and so am I (w/ Bonus Jonas)

September 1, 2010
tags: ,
Not long ago they came for us. They came with big blue blankets and cardboard boxes, a tape dispenser that screamed like a cat in heat. They came with ramps and handcarts and screwdrivers and disassembled my life. Of course, they wrapped each fragment of it in thousands of sheets of brown paper, tucked them away in sturdy boxes, then sealed them with enough tape to protect the towels and Legos and junk drawer items from any impending nuclear attacks.

It’s been almost a month since Maurice and Randy started rifling through my kitchen cabinets and underwear drawer and in a very un-self-aware way, I think I just noticed.

Everything happened so quickly. The truck pulled up, the boxes were assembled, kids dispersed throughout the neighborhood. Things were packed, unpacked (twice — once for the freezer key and once for a backpack), stacked and loaded on the truck inside of just two days. How on Earth, can two men take apart and remove the lives of seven people in a couple of days? Did that really just happen?

I guess it did. I guess it happened even though there were kids writing love letters sprawled across the cardboard paths laid out to protect the floors and in spite of the threats from my neighbors to commit various acts of mayhem against them and their truck. It happened and before I knew it, I was backing out of the driveway, my yard full of kids wrapped around each other, tears streaming down their faces.

Maybe I stepped off the space-time continuum when I hit traffic in St. Louis and white-knuckled it for a thousand more miles. Maybe I blacked out while listening to Justin Bieber for said thousand miles and it took three weeks to recover. Maybe God really does watch out for crazy people and turned down the volume on that part of my brain until things settled down enough for me to sort it all out.

I don’t know how, but it happened.

It happened, obviously, because here I am, in a new house with my old things and a file full of photographs that chronicle the whole adventure. I can’t look at them though. I can’t read the cards. I can’t dial the numbers or tell the stories or choke off the ebola-virus-guilt that’s eating me up. I can’t even think about it too much because it makes that gap in my heart hurt. Bad.

I have been thinking about that Grief Cycle chart though and I think there should be one for moving, just to prepare you for the dysthymic interruption that even a night at Camp Rock Live with Demi Lovato and The Jonas Brothers can’t cure.

I’m thinking the stages would go something like this:

  • Oblivious Stage – Where am I and how did I get here?
  • Exhaustion Stage – I really can make lunch with my eyes closed.
  • Where Are My Damn Underwear Stage – Seriously? Who packed this stuff?
  • I Hate the Smell of Cardboard Stage – Let’s just throw all of this crap away.
  • Shopping Stage – I threw away all my crap and now I need new crap.
  • WTF? Stage – Whose stupid idea was this? I will kick their ass.
  • I Look Totally Stupid Because I Don’t Know My Own Phone Number Stage – Or my address.
  • You Owe Me Something BIG, Like Jewelry Stage – And you will pay. A lot.
  • OMG I AM SO SAD Stage – Pervasive desire to exist on diet of Mallow Cups, peach ice cream, and good tequila.
  • Acceptance Stage – Say things like, “Youze guys catch the Phillies last night?”


I am somewhere between crushing Rob in a vise to see if a diamond pops out and Acceptance. Maybe I should be gunning for a new watch, too. Time heals all wounds, right?


And now for your Jonas Bonus~
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7 Comments leave one →
  1. Tara Harris permalink
    September 1, 2010 9:08 am

    I love you and I feel your heartache. Your 10 step program is right on target!! You are healthy! 😉

    No matter where you are, you are loved around this entire United States and most probably the world. I see the people who hold your family dear and have been made better just by knowing all 7 of you! Me included. Fear not dear Ann – this love will reach you and hold you up no matter the distance…….that’s just how it works!

    Thank you for sharing your ride! Now roll the windows down – it’s gonna be alright!

    Love and hugs!
    Tara

  2. Lisa permalink
    September 1, 2010 10:38 am

    Is it possible to laugh and cry at the same time? Of course it is because that’s what you have me doing. Call me if you wanna have a box-torching party.

  3. Melissa permalink
    September 1, 2010 11:01 am

    Love you and the world as you see it. There also needs to be a stage for mourning the loss of favorite grocery store/pediatrician/hair salon/dentist and other life essentials that you have to start all over searching for. I fell to pieces a few weeks after our move in the aisle of a local grocery store where I could not find ANYTHING! I went ages w/o getting a haircut, scoping out the other women at the school and finally confronting the one who had the best hair. She held my hand as if I had asked her to save my soul and gave me the number of her stylist. We’ve had a special bond ever since.

  4. September 1, 2010 7:43 pm

    I hope something good pops out of Rob!

    Miss you bunches Ann the Great!!!

    Smooch and Hugs!

  5. September 12, 2010 2:42 pm

    😦

  6. May 23, 2011 9:26 pm

    I’m a bit behind times, but, then, I just found you. I feel you pain, and I thin you are right on target with your steps. I’m finally on step 10 after almost 9 months. (From Pa to Tn). Only instead of the Phillies, it is,”Y’all fixin’ to go t Zumba tonight?”

    • May 24, 2011 8:35 am

      That made me LAUGH! Love it! And be careful at Zumba — don’t pull anything! hahahaha 🙂

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