We had a fine pancake breakfast this morning. I am fueled with coffee. The chaos of the past weeks made it into the rearview somewhere in Logan Canyon.
It was difficult to sleep. After months of planning and weeks of packing, selling, cleaning, and fidgeting, it was finally time to say goodbye to our house, neighbors, and life in Salt Lake City. Our new adventure was mere moments away. It had been longer than I could remember since anxiety, let alone panic, overwhelmed me. I was twelve years old again struggling with the combination lock on my new junior high school locker.
What the hell are we doing? Is this the right thing to do for a family? My family?
We signed-up for homelessness. Sure, one-percenter homelessness, but suffice that we do not have an address to go back to. Upon learning that we sold our house in preparation for this adventure, a wise friend quipped that we burned our bridge. Yup, torched. The day of departure is a hard time to question whether you are about to destroy the fragile psyches of your children. Friends, neighbors, and nannies, who you share the best kind of love and respect for, are ripped away -- by me! Will my daughter hate me for this?
The actual mechanics of closing-up the house took longer than hoped and seemed endless in a fractal sort of way -- every room had a nooks with boxes with nooks, et cetera. We eventually finished. It was only four hours off schedule. I wish I could dial-in my software projects that accurately.
The final lap through the empty house, no longer ours, was hardest. All the memories of our time in Salt Lake City bubbled over as I took one last peek in each room. Moving in. Christmases. Friends. Parties. Projects with dad. Two babies. Moving out. Utah was never home for us, but this was our home.
We hit the road around four-thirty. We arrived at Bear Lake before dark. Rain soaked us while we fiddled with the various plumbing, jacks, tarps, and other "camping" accoutrement. I loved it. On the raod, anxiety had been steadily fading with each exhale. In our trailer, with a healthy rain pelting the roof, we had made the transition. This will be our new home for a while. Good, bad, or ugly.