falling into place

After three days of showings our house is under contract. I had been preparing myself to be here another six or eight weeks to manage that, but we are now planning to all move out to Brooklyn in about a week. Justin pulled the plug on the last apartment I wrote about when it started looking like an undesirable situation. He took another trip out to find a new apartment while my friends and family worked their hearts out helping me ready the house for sale. (The computer went with him. This is literally my first opportunity to blog.) He found a place that is the same floor plan but with a dishwasher, beautiful new hardwood floors, one fewer flight of stairs, more closets and kitchen counter space and half the commute time to his job for much, much less money a month. We'll be a couple blocks from the north end of Prospect Park and the library. Hooray!

We saved enough on the realtor fees for the new apartment to pay for the movers to pack us. I've never had that done before and I'm looking forward to having just the unpacking to contend with since we're loading up the truck so soon. Even though I've been on a decluttering kick for ages I'm sad to say there is still much more in my house and garage and yard than I care to bring with us. So there's much sorting through left, as well as the sale of our cars and finding one more home for our dogs. A kind-sounding couple is coming by to meet Cooper today.

But when I thought I wasn't moving for awhile it stopped seeming real to me. It went back in the realm of someday and didn't seem imminent. Then when the change of plans transpired it shocked me as though the idea had never occured to me before: I'm moving to New York! (Amelia calls New York City, New Ork Sleeping.) Final things are happening all around me and I won't escape the pain of loss much longer.

Today I want to tell Kim that I'm sorry for leaving her. I hate that one of us has to be the first to go and I'm sorry that it's me. I want to confess to Phyllis that she's my Ideal Reader, that everything I write is in the hope that it will make her laugh or nod or smile. I'm going to feel absolutely lost when I can't look in Caren's wise eyes and see the answers I need. Who is going to make me feel articulate when Mandy's not around or give me the truth straight when Amy's not there to cut the crap? Having Emily back is like finding my childhood security blanket, and leaving is like losing it all over again. My spiritual journey will feel lonely when Cynthia and the Margarita Clan aren't there to commiserate about the boxes we put God in being blown to smithereens. I'm terrified of leaving their safe care.

This will be a difficult week.