As you may know, my wife, son, and I moved from Massachusetts to North Carolina last week. But this wasn’t my first move. I’m 32 years old, and (I’ve lost count) but I’ve moved at least 30 times. Sarah has moved quite a few times as well—she was born in New Jersey, then lived in Hong Kong, then Toronto, before moving to Massachusetts.
Most of my moves have been local. After I was born, before I was five we moved a couple of times in New Hampshire, I moved to and from Denver, and now I’ve moved to North Carolina. Every other move has been within a 50 mile radius—probably 25 miles.
All of these local moves trained me in how to do the mechanics of moving. My father would rent a UHaul, and we would load it up, drive across town, or a couple of towns over, and we could do as many trips as we needed. At one point my dad started joking that we should just have handles installed on all of our furniture.
When I moved to Denver, it was my first move on my own. I loaded up my Honda Civic (not the one I currently have, just another in a long string of Hondas) with all my clothes and stuff. A friend and I squeezed into the car and drove out to Denver. Then when I moved back it was the same thing. It was easy because I was 21 and didn’t have furniture.
So this was my first big move with furniture. I didn’t really know what to expect, because when you move locally you can do it a bit more piecemeal. Things can get put away as you’re moving, this was a whole different beast. We had our furniture roughly in place, but overall we had boxes anywhere we might want to stand or walk. We’ve put away so much, and still it is overwhelming.
Anyway, I didn’t want to write about the mechanical process of moving. I wanted to write about the emotional process. So, one thing that I’ve felt every time I’ve moved, as we empty out the house we’re leaving is that it feels like the end of a sitcom, that moment when everyone looks back into the house and does a last memory check. When Sarah and I got our first place together, it was like the start of a spin-off, but all of the old cast of characters were still going to be regularly appearing. This move—nearly 12 hours away— is something different. There will be guest appearances, but it’s a whole different show.
The weather here is different, the roads, the amount of things for Logan to do. This place is just completely different and ultimately it will limit how often I get to see my friends and family. I’m not complaining, I needed this big move, and I think job-wise, and weather-wise and in so many other ways it’s going to be a great decision, but that doesn’t make it easier to say goodbye to all the great things about my old life.
Now, I realize, that it’s 2017 and it’s definitely the best time in the history of the world to move away from you family—with planes and FaceTime— but until teleportation is available it’s not ‘easy’.
One of the big positives about moving, is that with the better weather, and Logan becoming more mobile I think that I will be able to make myself healthier. I’m really looking forward to this. We haven’t been here a week, and we’ve seen so many parks, and ‘greenways’—special paths for bikes and pedestrians— and we’ve been outside more than ever before.
The downsides are there is amazing but unhealthy food all over. There is so much BBQ and fried chicken—it’s a fat boy’s dream down here. I think the saving grace will be that Sarah and I love to cook, and so we hopefully won’t fall into that trap, and as we add activity to our lives—the beaches aren’t too far and I still plan on surfing— my hope is that I will lose weight, and feel better physically and emotionally.
Part of the key to making a move like this work, is changing. I have to adapt my own life, and change, to some extent, who I am in order to grow into this new place. I’m ready for this brand new adventure!