When we moved in with each other, we lived in a lovely little place in Charlestown, MA. It was perfection, if you didn't pay attention to the slanting floors or the 300 square feet.* It was a "cozy" one bedroom, exposed brick, in an awesome area of the 'Town, cobble stone streets, views of the city and bridge, cheap, close to it all. We loved it.
When we moved around in Boston, it was out of
And move we did; to a lovely (over priced) duplex in the South End of Boston. On the corner of bougie & hit the deck, it's a drive by! Oh but how it was (mostly glorious). The location was divine (to one side), exposed brick (I'm a sucker), TONS of space (to clean), small outdoor space (despite looking over a Dunkin Donut's parking lot, gorgeous kitchen, our first apartment with laundry IN the unit, and always lots of fun.
We left because of how much the ball&chain was traveling (now laughable), and needing to be more central to where he was going. It was sad to leave Boston, but an important step for our family. It was exciting. It was sad to leave, but not so much - sad - NOOO I'm not ready, more so... Awe. This stinks. Not even, sucks. Actually, that's not true. If I'm being totally honest? We were ready.
We moved to Connecticut, hated our apartment but we made it our own. It was great to be close (enough) to family & friends, exploring a town I once knew as a college student (spoiler alert: totally not the same). We got to spend time with good friends and I tried to connect with new ones. I was getting there.* We got our first taste of suburban main street, and fell in love with the (possibility) of community.
BOOM. We find out we're moving. Destination: St. Louis, Missouri.
I can't say I was a fan of the idea, but I can't tell if it was the whole "pick up and move half way across the country thing" or the fact that it was the "7+ months pregnant, moving half way across the country thing." It's hard to say. I guess the reasons aren't important. The bottom line: I wasn't happy. We were up for the adventure, we knew we had to do it, it was good for the ball&chain's career. We said we'd move for as long as L wasn't in middle school. We sucked it up and powered through. We figured, we'll be in & out in two years and just get 'er done. But God damn it, you crazy ass hoosier, I love you. I fucking love you (yes, F bomb warranted).
It's the little things, like family friendly activities that aren't cheesy, are mostly free, and almost always serve beer. It's the deliciously fresh food, reasonable prices (of most anything), and mostly nice people. The arches in the doorways and cross that hangs in our entry way because our landlords left it in a pocket of the wall - stuck on with old gum or tack - and even after re-painting the place we thought it belonged. The farmer's market that has the best breakfast burrito that has ever been burritoed (and live music, a play ground and kick ass produce). The central standard time zone; best time zone, ever. You aren't so far off either coast to feel disconnected, TV shows are on earlier, you can wake up later, it's really the best time zone there is. Truth. The walk we do, behind our neighborhood, into Washington University. All kinds of secret little passages, in between buildings that look like castles. Bike rides around the neighborhood, the sidewalks, even the god damn grass that I keep killing and the endless plants in the countless gardens that the owners had set up. I love those stupid plants.
I won't miss the heat. That shit is bananas (110 degrees at 8 pm is not right. It's been 90 or higher since February, and our electric bill this month was disgusting). Which reminds me, I'm gonna miss our central air. Cost, be damned.
It's the big things. It's our neighbors, who admire our children. Our neighborhood, who embodies what you see in good ol' family friendly Disney movies (before Lindsay Lohan broke in). It's where we brought our (newest) baby home. And as far as we are from family, and as much as it's hard a lot of the time, it's where we get to really be our own family. We are able to spend time together in ways that when we are closer, we can't. We have birthdays, dinners, communions, baptisms, showers - the endless obligations that you want to be there for - you just don't get the time we get here.
What are we doing this weekend? Nothing. Hanging out with each other, and we love it.
St. Louis, is where we got all that time together. All that exploring. All that ... I don't know? Family.
The kid has made friends here, she has play dates, she takes dance class, and attends creative camps during the summer. The counselors know her. I want them to see how much she'll grow from this year to next year - like they did this past year. I want to have Halloween here, again. God damn it, I want to march in the July 4th parade again. Oh my god, I just realized. We're going to miss apple festivals, St. Patrick's Day parades, and a hot air balloon race that kicked ass. I'm also realizing all the pictures and posts I forgot to write or publish. I can't link you there, but trust me: good times. As soon as we figured out all that we loved, and all that we are looking forward to for "next time," it's gone.
I know, maybe we won't find all of that where we are going - but some portion of this
I'm heart broken about the move.*
There are some exciting aspects. It's a great opportunity for the ball&chain, MUCH less travel during the week, new places to explore. I do love to set up shop and make a house our home. I've become quite good at it, if I do say so myself. We still get quality time and continue our adventure.
It doesn't change the loss I feel. I didn't cry when we moved from Connecticut to Missouri. I cried when we said goodbye to people. It made me sad to think of L (and our baby to be) not being able to see their family & friends as much as she did. It wrecks me to know that our family relays on pictures, youtube videos and skype to see our babies when they do, and it's not often. That hurts. But moving? Eh. It was a pain in the ass, and I wasn't happy about it - but I bucked up and we moved.
I've already cried a few times, just thinking of moving from here. My heart is heavy and I'm truly sad. Like NOOO I'm not ready, sad. Thinking of someone else in this house, hurts my heart. It sounds so dramatic. I assure you, it doesn't make it any less true. I love this house. I love this neighborhood. I love this god damn city.
I'm not ready.
*An estimate, but probably close.