Exclaim & Murmur »

Masthead header

Hello, goodbye

Incredibly, we have stumbled upon the wrapping-up phase, the ending, the moving on. When O started school a bit over two years ago, we were uncertain whether it was the right decision to relocate across the country and begin The New Life. I suppose that’s true of just about every next step for everyone, but we were really uncertain. We hemmed and hawed every decimeter and mile along the way. Eventually, we wound up in our new spot saying (trying to convince ourselves) that we were capable of doing anything for two years. Just two years! It’d be pie. That’s, like, less than thirty months. 

And here we are, already at the close.

As always, I wish that my diligence in writing it all down was less spotty. But I’m here now so that when The Next New Life begins in December, the memories won’t all wash away. We will leave carrying so much more than when we arrived.

Walking into our new apartment two months following O’s move-in date, after I wrapped up the loose ends of Colorado life, he had one one of “our” songs playing on the open laptop. Next to a piece of paper containing a scrawled “welcome home” was a gift: a big green houseplant with a note jutting out of the soil that stated it was basically indestructible. No light in the apartment? Fine. Forget to water it for a month? No problem. I’m not so good at keeping plants alive, but this one thrived, hearty and strong, until about four months ago. I planned on moving that darn plant to our next home, and the one after that, ad infinitum, because it reminds me of how excellent our lives together are. It would definitely be oxygenating our lives for many years to come, I was sure of it.

Now, we’ll still bring it along, but it’s a little bedraggled. We’ll see how many kitten-tooth puncture wounds are survivable; I’m pretty sure constant mastication was not what the distributor had in mind when proclaiming the plant’s indestructibility. Our Olive, the softest little beast of a cat, is the only thing we’ve found that can destroy that welcome-home gift. She’ll come along on our next adventure, too.


More like this: