I sometimes forget how emotional moving can be. In my world, I generally try to plan pragmatically. I sometimes forget the inefficiency of emotion. I seldom budget for it.
Tonight I am packing stuff up by myself in a house that we're very familiar with. We've been guests here. We've been counseled here. We've cried, laughed, sat around shooting the shit, drank and smoked. Looked out on the Bay, on the fog, at the fireworks. Three house shows in this home.
And that's all before we lived here. Now we've been here for the summer of 2008 and it was magical...one of the best possible ways for us to leave the Bay area.
But I digress. See how inefficient emotions can be!
Moving causes me to remember where I've been, how often I've moved my wife and child and friends and family members. A rolling stone. I think of how I've hurt people with my departures, how I've freed people, how I've confused people.
My sister texts me to see the nearly full Harvest moon. That same moon pulled my son into our world two years ago. My son, born here in this locale, will he always be connected here? To the smell of eucalyptus (my eyes tear up as I remember this smell)? the sounds of Mission activity?
Thing is–and this is probably why I forget the emotions that come with moving–we all end up staying in touch. We live in a different world than our parents were born into. When folks left their families, even just decades ago, it could mean significant distance, but these days, we all move...and we all still see each other.
Are you still with me? I have some more moving to get to, so I should get back to that. Thanks for indulging my nostalgia.