There are still quite a few details that are being worked out about our upcoming move to West Palm Beach, but there are now two things that are set: our flight down there to get the new house ready to move into, and the schedule for movers to collect our things in NYC and hit the road.
I’m excited, and terrified, and I spent a fair bit of time this morning crying.
The “crying” part is, admittedly, a bit dramatic. I was watching the finale of the HBO version of Angels in America, and there’s a phenomenal monologue in the very last scene, set in Central Park at Bethesda Fountain. (You can watch it here, if you’re curious.)
This hit me particularly hard, because that spot is where we’ve held dozens of picnics over the past decade, on weekend visits when we lived in Charlotte and countless Sundays in the park in the six and a half years we’ve lived here. It’s where we took family and friends the morning after our wedding, for a celebration in the park. We’ve sat, we’ve sprawled, we’ve eaten, we’ve drank, we’ve laughed, we’ve cried, we’ve napped, we’ve loved.
And next week, we leave.
Okay, I’m being a little dramatic again, but as per usual, I blog when I’m working through The Feels, so hopefully it’s excusable. This move has been in the works for months now, always lingering over conversations and social plans and calendars… but now it’s upon us. This morning we confirmed with the movers that they’re picking up our things on Wednesday of next week, and beginning their journey 1,200 miles south. The reality of this is firmly setting in with me today, and I’m a bit worked up over it.
We’ll be hopping a plane next Friday morning to head down there and get the house ready. Depending on how long the movers take, we’ll be able to get utilities turned on, throw some fresh paint on the walls, and pick up some essentials for the house before our belongings meet us there. Then, we have a day or two to get things situated, before heading back to NYC.
I had to edit my first pass at the above sentence, because I’d originally, instinctively, written “heading back home”. Sooner or later I’m going to have to start calling West Palm Beach “home” instead of NYC.
Next steps after that are still a bit fuzzy… We’ll be living out of suitcase and sleeping on an air mattress for a bit here in NYC, until the final details are ready. There’s still some uncertainty about work schedules and potential work travel (for both of us), which will determine the rest… But sometime the weekend of either March 17-18 or March 24-25, we will be loading the dogs, plants, and fish up in a car and driving south to our new home, already set up and ready for us.
The world only spins forward. More life. The great work begins.