Well, we’ve started the move to Boston. Yesterday, I drove Cat and a car full of her furniture down to her new apartment in the Boston area. We’re doing her move in two stages. The move of the boxes of furniture that I had in my kitchen corner for the last month and a half happened yesterday. In all of my infinite wisdom, I convinced her a few months ago to order the essentials for her room that she couldn’t pack in a trash bag and throw in the back of my car. We sat on her bed and picked out a bed frame, mattress, dresser, and a vanity because she likes to sit down and put on her makeup while drinking her morning coffee. So, this stuff was sitting in the corner waiting for the day we would move it up.
The drive up was a breeze. Instead of going on a Tuesday, I figured Monday being a holiday was a better choice. Parking wasn’t going to have restrictions and the traffic would surely be lighter since it was the first. I’m a weirdo when it comes to logistics and planning. I wanted all of this to go off without a hitch. I want her move to be a smooth and easy one where she can transition to this part of her life so prepared. Yeah, some of it wasn’t necessary. She could have “made do” with plastic drawers from Walmart or some wire framed closet from a box that would be an eyesore every time she opened her eyes. But, that’s not who she is and not how I raised her. She didn’t go over the top and spend a fortune, but she’s making her first space away from home a place that is inviting and hers. I’ve always stressed this in the different places we’ve lived over the years. Her first bedroom was decorated mostly from the IKEA in downtown Taipei where her father and I would shop on the weekends. The white crib soon made way for a lofted bunk bed with a canopy of stars that she would play under though she rarely slept in her own bed. When we moved to a small cottage on Main Street in Westport, I had the attic loft space carpeted and turned into a livable space for a seven year old. Though the mold growing in the shower and kitchen were much to be desired, I made it a home as I’ve done with all the rentals we’ve had these past 23 years of her life.
Her most recent bedroom in our current home now has been the master/biggest room with the most outlets. I’ve taken over her old bedroom in the past five years. It’s the tiny box that allows me to roast my insides each night and lie under the air conditioner in the middle of winter with the bursts of forced hot air. Yet, it’s better for me to have had the smaller room when it hit me one day that she needed more space to live her life since I really had the rest of the house to contain mine. I’ve loved helping her find new pieces for her bedroom that she likes and appreciates. Her nightstand for these past years has been a school desk salvaged from middle school in a neighboring city. Band names and expletives in varying degrees of stupid from over five decades are carved into the top. It’s one of her prized possessions and is now in her new room where she’s moving. On Saturday, we’ll make the trip back to drop her and the last of her possessions off. It’s going to be one of those super bittersweet experiences. Yet, I’m so incredibly okay with it. Because it’s the perfect time. Not only is she ready, but I’m also ready to step outside of this world I’ve been in as a result of being a parent to her, but never to myself.
When I obsess a bit over what her room will look like and I think about if she has this, that, or the other for when she moves, I don’t feel stupid or bad about it at all. I love that I give a shit that she’s happy. I’m thrilled that her comfort matters so much to me because this was never done for me and it’s one of the greatest gifts to give a person when they are part of your life. Her comfort in her home with me and in every space she lives from the day I die will matter to me. Though it’s not her crib with the softest of sheets lining it, I want her to look around and feel at home.
It’s going to be an interesting last week. I don’t have much food in the house and don’t really want to go to the store that much. We’re eating leftovers and the dregs of the freezer. I’m resetting when she moves and starts her new portion of her life. This is my time to do it as it’s her time to do hers. Cat’s been playing this video game recently and she’s got about 40% of it to go before the game is over. She will have reached its end. In thinking about this parenting journey and even my life, I’m seeing that I’m at this point now we’re I have 30-40% more to go. This part of it will be alone and to my own fashion. No parents to guide/dictate/beat it into me. No partner or spouse to weigh in on what I should do. No child to consider in every waking moment of the day. Just me and the rest of the percentage of my life to go.
Driving in the dark last night, there were bits of highway where I couldn’t see the lines because they were faded. I had to turn on my high beams in order to see the road ahead of me. Instead of relying on the faded lines, I wanted to make sure to see as far ahead of myself as possible to avoid any curves or variations. I made sure that the lights weren’t shining into oncoming traffic or the cars before me because I’m not an asshole, but it did make me think about this outside my vehicle. I’ve spent a lot of my life just driving by the faded lines on the side of the road and not looking ahead because I’ve illuminated the road before me.
It’s going to be an interesting and lovely week. I’m going to take walks with Cat and spend time being with her in the quiet ways we like. I’ll eventually go to the store and buy a few groceries to get us by as a duo in the next four days. I may make a cake or not. We may even have a Champagne Send Off this Friday. Last minute me.
Signing off for now.
Here’s the start of her new space. I can’t wait to help her pull it all together this weekend in this beautiful dance we’ve done before. Putting together the furniture was a test in our relationship as it always is, yet we persevered and no one ended up with hurt feelings.
Now all she has to do is find that first job and fall in love with her life in Boston. The best part is that I like her roommates and feel that they’ll all get along well. I have that good feeling that comes from a lifetime of figuring people out.
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