Still a sh*t tonne to do to settle in to the new life here obviously, but we’re taking today to celebrate a fairly sizeable milestone in this process and toasting arriving at our apartment finally all in one piece.
Brett actually chose this place on his own on our Hail Mary trip back here, and I’m happy to say that we’re still on speaking terms. He did really well, and I think our gang is going to do ok here:)
Driving down here from our hotel this morning I was frantically looking out the window to try to translate the google map I’ve been obsessively scouring for 3 weeks, trying to imagine exactly where we were and what everything looked like as we approached our new neighbourhood. I then saw the curve in the road that id associated with the ‘top of our street’ on the map, and instantly felt relieved. ‘Oh, thank god it doesn’t suck here! ‘
I’ll take some time to digest things further, but for now I will celebrate 3 trips to bed, bath and beyond and one life altering trip to whole foods with a yuengling.
And here’s my grocery list for anyone setting up in a new place. I am list obsessed.
It shouldn’t surprise me, but it does, every time.
It’s remarkable what moving homes unearths. In an old suitcase. In an infrequently visited drawer. In last season’s purse.
Last weekend I found a truly remarkable ( with the right intoxicated lenses) souvenir picture from my stagette in Vegas. Perfectly timed with our 8th wedding anniversary.
Tonight I found a ticket stub from an event that we still talk about.
Nora was 3 months old and we bundled her into the Bjorn and headed out to listen to His Holiness the Dali Lama. It was amazing, as you’d expect.
We still talk about the closing advice he gave to new parents. (He’s totally talking to US!)
In his incomparably gentle and knowing voice he suggested that parents set aside the worries about what lessons we ought to teach our children first. What absolutes we needed to expose them to before all others.
He suggested that we think about our biggest responsibility as a new parent- to hug, and cuddle and kiss and hold this new baby as much as we could . To make this our single ‘job’. To do our best, in busy and complicated and difficult days, to really enjoy this. Kids can’t be loved too much, he said .
If signing a relocation agreement, fire-saling a vast majority of your possessions, and putting your house on the rental market didn’t make it feel real, beginning the unspoken, but actual ‘Farewell Dinners’ with friends has certainly made this whole adventure real.
Sure, sure- there are no longer any more real ‘farewells’, but rather ‘until next times’. And that’s ok. And I’m sure that with many of these friends we will evolve our friendship.
It is making ‘real’ the fact that life is about to change for us in a dramatic way. That’s the part that is hitting today.
With a move like this, you tend to get immediately consumed by all of the logistics. You have to be, or it will be infinitely more stressful than it already is. You are absorbed by the sequencing of the shut-down of your current life, and the set-up of your new life, from schools, jobs, homes, dog crates, flights, furniture, and little things called Work Visas.
It is a tornado of details. Of taking blind leaps in one direction, because you simply have no choice but to keep things moving in SOME direction. Only to then have to climb back up the hill, and jump off the other side of the cliff. Numbers. Letters. Applications. Approvals. Submissions. Call-backs. Messages. Confirmations. Keep. Things. Moving.
And then all of a sudden you really are moving in less than 2 weeks.
And you see some of your nearest and dearest friends who’s mind and understanding of the situation lay back 4 weeks ago when they first heard about this change; they are still waiting to hear about where you’re actually going, what you’ll be doing, wondering if everyone is ok with everything. And you’re moving in 2 weeks and have moved well beyond this point.
Queue the scratch of a record.
Changes like this in your life allows you to pause, ironically enough. To reflect on what your friendships have survived- some good, some difficult, some exciting, some terrifying, and some disappointing moments. To reflect on the unwavering support these friendships have provided. True, genuine, loving support. Not always in the most conventional of ways. But true and sincere and well-intentioned support nonetheless.
While I look forward to the new friendships I will make with this move, I am comforted with the strength and encouragement that my special friendships thus far have given me. Enough to make me even consider taking this next leap…
I’ll miss all of these a*&holes. Deeply. But, despite Brett’s groan, I will also have an air mattress available for any lucky visitors…
This will be our NYC camera. Panasonic Lumix DMC FZ1000. Click on the camera for a review. Very nice on the test shots so far. See below for one of Pearson.
Pearson had his last haircut at Bandbox today, here in Calgary. He’s been going here since he was a pup (9 years!) and we were all sad to say good bye. 🙁
We got the low-down on his usual cut, so they can duplicate it for us state-side.
Friends, parents, spouses, siblings, kids and even dogs will eventually let you down, but a Toyota will not.
Mine hasn’t. And it’s for sale very soon. We brought Nora and Eli home from the hospital in it. I’ve had it since 2007 and we’ve put 90,000 km on her. I put about 200,000 on my old ’89 runner. They are tanks and my odometers are a mere fraction of what they are capable of.
I just had it cleaned and detailed and it looks almost like the day I bought it. I didn’t think it would be tough to say goodbye to her as I’ve been toying with it for a couple of years, but taking those photos today was pretty tough.
I bought it with my dad after a couple of pints at Wild Rose Brewery. It was a terrible idea, but I had enough liquid courage to low-ball the used car saleswoman who was wearing an overly tight charcoal powersuit. The rest is history.
Safe Travels, 4Runner-san. 4.7 litres of awesome.