Moving is a lot of work, but packing up your worldly goods and transporting them from point A to point B is fairly straightforward. I wish that had been the case in my situation. My move from PA to FL involved a few “extra” steps:
- Packing to be ready for the movers on August 28th
- Coordinating the arrival and unloading of my belongings at the destination on September 1st
- Designating certain boxes to be first on the truck, so they could be last off the truck, so that I would have easier access to them once they were put in storage
- Leaving cleaning supplies, vacuum, lights, some tools, and an assortment of other items needed to clean up the apartment until September 2nd, when I had to turn in the keys
- Moving those items to a friend’s house until my final departure on October 20th
- Leaving enough clothes, toiletries, computer, and other items needed for day-to-day living until my final departure on October 20th
Of course, there was a lot of other things going on during this time that made it even more chaotic.
- I had just returned from FL on August 2nd after spending two weeks getting my daughter situated. She accepted a position in Orlando and we had to get her a car and an apartment, so that she was ready to start work on July 27th.
- My mother had about two doctor appointments each week, from September 1st until the time I left.
- I was frantically trying to get instructions in place for the person who would take over my job. I was already working a reduced schedule so that I could take mom to her appointments.
- I was dealing with many emotions during this whole time: guilt, fear, sadness, and excitement to name a few
I spent three weeks packing a two bedroom apartment and at one point it felt like I would NEVER get every single thing packed. I had moved eight years prior and left a lot of stuff behind, but had acquired a few new things along the way. I couldn’t fathom what it must be like to pack an entire house, complete with attic and basement. I couldn’t do it.
Right now me and my belongings are in limbo. I’m living temporarily with my son and daughter-in-law, who graciously invited me to stay with them while I job search. Because this is a new start, I really want to make good decisions. I want to hold out for a job that is truly meaningful. Which job that is, I’m not sure.
My son came in from work the other day and asked me if I was keeping busy. I responded, “Oh, yes. I’m busy trying to find myself.”
He reminded me that I’m 54 years old and if I haven’t found myself yet, I probably never will.
But I remain hopeful.
Following Seas 
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