Whatever that means. The times they are a changin, Monsieur Dylan says. The past two months I have been sitting in a boat on choppy waters. Philip sits with me. Our boat has not faced any particular direction, and it is rocked by imminent change. Where is this boat going? we think. Half of me doesn't care, because my heart is so sad that my sister is gone. But the other half is jumping from foot to foot like I used to do as a little kid when I needed to go the bathroom but refused to stop playing. Eeeh adventure, what's next, what's next, what's next! Some of my sadness has been suppressed by job hunting and then house hunting. When our boat turned south toward Geawgia, the logistics of everything kept me busy, making plans, giving my two week's notice, finding a place to live, traveling for anniversary and summer...We moved down south on Sunday with a full moving truck, finally secured a place to live on Tuesday, moved in on Wed., and then I went back to DC on Thursday morning to stay with a friend and finish out my last couple weeks of work in the office.
When the boat changed directions, our hearts did too. We began researching Atlanta, google-mapping distances to friends and family and the beach. So arriving back in DC yesterday was hard. When hard things like moving or losing someone happen, your heart begins to embrace something new and find a new happy place.
When I moved from TN to DC, my sister told me she could not wait to see what God was going to do. I had NO earthly idea what career path I should take, and I was mostly resigned to an eternal destiny/fallback of barista-ing. But then a new job fell into my lap with lots of possibility, and my sister just smiled and said, "See? He takes such good care of you." What an encouragement.
After arriving on a bus from Atlanta after 13 hours, the only thing I wanted to do was go running, and after I arrived at my destination, I promptly plopped my suitcase down on the floor, unpacked my running shoes, and departed. As I ran in this familiar territory, literally on my old stomping grounds (which I'd had until this last Sunday for the last two years), I felt sad. Running through Lincoln Park, I missed my dog who I brought to this park all the time to play. As I ran towards the Capitol, emotionally exhausted from all this change, I realized what was possibly the hardest thing about this move. My sister wasn't here to see this new phase of life. She wasn't here to walk me through it, to assure me that even though I'm quitting my job in DC that I'll be fine in Atlanta. This city - DC - is last place I lived when she was alive, and that made this city both heartbreaking while also comforting. I remember where I was when I got those phone calls from her and when we talked and talked about how she was doing. DC is a painful place to be and a
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