Children

My Life in Boxes

/ Luanne Shernisky / 4 Comments

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:

politifact-photos-Moving_boxes

  • 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.

Job Search GIF

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.

 

 

Let the Scene Write Itself

/ Luanne Shernisky / Leave a comment

It was a perfect beach day. The skies were azure blue and dappled with white clouds resembling gossamer. The sun warmed the sand and the sea breezes blew steadily, without so much as a break. There were a lot of foamy whitecaps lining the waves, which seemed higher than usual. A group of seagulls stood silently at the water’s edge looking out to sea as if waiting for something. There weren’t many people on the Florida beach in November; some walkers and joggers and a few sunbathers. Only one family was present on this stretch of beach and the three children busied themselves building a sandcastle.

Michael, the oldest, was a typical big brother. At nine years old he was bigger and stronger than his two younger sisters and believed he should be in charge of the castle building. Walking deliberately around the structure, he eyed it from different vantage points and gave directions to the girls.

“That won’t work,”he said as he brushed sand from his board shorts, a bright pattern of lime green and navy blue.

The girls ignored him and kept on working, pushing sand with their hands from one spot to another. The older sister Maddie was seven years old with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her teal colored two piece suit almost matched the sky, except for the bands of coral, yellow and pink that stretched across the front of her top. Mary was the youngest at four years and was quite the diva, with a pink suit and purple tutu. Her matching hat tied under the chin and had a picture of a mermaid on the top with shiny sequins for scales. Coordinating water wings completed her outfit. Strawberry blonde strands of hair worked their way out of the hat over her forehead and blew in the wind.

There was no arguing and little conversation between the children; they worked silently, moving and molding sand. It almost appeared that they could read each other’s thoughts, as they worked in tandem. Occasionally, Michael would make a running jump over the sandcastle and the girls would protest, but they continued to work.

“Mary, go get some water,” Maddie said and Mary obediently picked up the yellow cup and scampered on her tip toes towards the surf.

An elderly couple walked past the children and the woman smiled at the scene.

Mary returned with the water and handed it to Maddie.

“I hope we can come back to the beach for our summer vacation next year,” Michael said.

Maddie nodded in agreement, “Mom said if we’re good at the funeral tomorrow, then we can come back next summer.”

Mary stopped and gazed down the beach. “When is next summer?”

“It’s a long, long time away,” responded Michael. “By the time it gets here, you’ll be going into kindergarten.”

“Yeah, I wish the years didn’t last so long,” Maddie said as she swatted at a bug. “They take forever and I wish they’d go faster.”

And eventually they did.