Moving. Ugh. The word itself makes me cringe, yet swell with excitement all at the same time. (That’s a metaphor, not a comment on my newly round gut.) The process sucks for sure, but it can be fun to start new on a blank canvas somewhere.
The amount of stuff we’ve thrown out in the past week has convinced me that no matter how often we move actual residences we should at least trick ourselves into thinking we’re moving every year. The cleansing is so cathartic, and this level of cleaning can only happen when you think you’re going to have to physically carry this stuff from one place to another. Suddenly, that makes it easier to part with junk rather than just think, oh I’ll hang onto it a little while longer.
But with the new excitement of starting within a new set of walls comes the unfortunate sadness of closing the door on this chapter. Mekuria and I have lived in our little one-bedroom apartment for four and a half years – the longest either of us have lived anywhere since leaving home after high school. We signed the lease as “boyfriend and girlfriend” and have signed the termination letter as married, expecting parents. What an awesome four years it’s been!
And there are so many details I will miss. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve watched the fog roll in across the Eucalyptus trees that line the top of Golden Gate Park, visible from the living room windows. I’ve always loved listening to the foghorns blowing at 6 a.m. at the bridge while getting dressed for work. I’ll miss the landlord’s cute broken English on the answering machine, saying “I am Gina,” which in no way is meant to be condescending as I’m sure if I tried to speak to her in Mandarin it would be so broken as to be deemed entirely shattered.
I’ll even miss telling the story of how we moved into this place – our UHaul broken down on a steep San Francisco hill, gliding backwards into oncoming traffic. The two of us waiting for the tow truck in the rain for two hours as we watched the chaos unfold due to our truck blocking city buses from getting by. And just that moment where we realized how funny it looked to arrive at our new home in a tow truck with the UHaul hitched to the back.
I’ve lived in lots of apartments, but it’s hard to say good-bye to this one.
Onward we must go, though, as we prepare our lives for the biggest change of all – our new baby girl! It’s true that we’re only moving about three blocks down the street, but three blocks is actually a big change of scenery. I definitely won’t have a view of that fog across the tower and trees anymore. And I doubt we’ll hear the foghorns, even in the wee hours of morning before most of the city awakes.
But I will have my new child’s eyes to gaze into, which I think will easily trump the serenity I felt in all these other things. So it’s cleaning and packing and moving and unpacking… It was nice knowing you little apartment!