Wednesday, June 16, 2010

and pack my bags, and never look back, run a parallel line with the railroad tracks, and make my get away

I feel it's gonna rain like this for days
So let it rain down and wash everything away
I hope that tomorrow the sun will shine
I feel it's gonna rain like this
Rain like this
Rain like this

Fall down
Wash away my yesterdays
Fall down
So let the rain fall down on me

It's raining today, it's only fitting. I like the song of the rain falling on the roof of my camper (that's where I'm sitting right now). It's loading day, and it's always rained on loading day ever since I can remember. The packers packed my house up yesterday and Monday; my entire room has been reduced to 7 cardboard boxes with the untidy scrawl in sharpie of a packer writing all it's contents in just a few words. Everything is being loaded on the truck today. There are boxes everywhere and the house smells like moving (aka cardboard boxes, paper, tape and helpless inevitability). This whole moving thing has been happening ever since I was born every 1 to 3 years. I hate moving so much, it's exhausting mentally, physically and emotionally. Good friends will reluctantly drift away to the too full category of "We Were Best Friends When I lived in _____INSERT NAME OF STATE). I've learned over the years that moving isn't just a relocation. Moving means packing and purging your house of the junk you have accumulated. It means throwing away pointless notes or nick-knacks you have had for several moves but just didn’t have the heart to throw away yet because they remind you of a different place and different time, with different people, and when you, yourself, were different. Moving means learning where everything is in a new kitchen and it takes three times as long to empty the dishwasher because you have to open every cabinet to find out where the plates go. It means having to flip all the light switches on the wall to figure out which ones goes to which lights for weeks. It means needing all the lights on at night because you don’t know the new layout and you can’t walk through your own house at night without running into the walls and furniture. It means learning all the TV channels and street names and social norms of the new location you just got thrown into. It means having to prove yourself to a new sports coach that you can bring something new and positive to the team. Moving is getting lost on your way home from school because you weren’t sure if it was the second or the third left you needed to take. It means saying goodbye and telling your friends that of course you’ll keep in touch even though as you say it, you feel the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach knowing that eventually simply asking how they are is too big a question. Too much time will have passed, too many events, too many years and too many friends to keep up with. Too much life happening for both of you for a phone call or E-mail to cover. You can't stay close to all of them. Moving is being bitter towards your new town and hating it with every fiber of your being; but then suddenly finding yourself falling in love with it and the people there; when one day you realize you belong there. That your new friends have brought you into their circle almost like you’ve always been there, too often only to have to move again. Moving is having the people you love and care about not ever really knowing exactly all of who you are because you didn’t have sleepovers with them in first grade, and you didn’t all go to the first middle school dance together because you lived somewhere else; you don’t remember when people say “remember last year when....” because your last years were with a different group of friends. It's having all the things you should have said before you left silenced. Moving is saying hello to people you never knew existed and you can’t believe how much of an impact they made in your life in a few short years, and how much you can love them and would do anything for them. Moving is gaining a new expierence and perspective. Moving is hoping you won’t be forgotten, and hoping that you will be known.

No one ever wants to say goodbye, we hold on to our memories and keep in touch the best we can. We may not talk a lot now, but it doesn't mean we aren't friends and what we went through, the good and bad times, the laughs and tears will always be there. We'll always matter to each other and always hope that their lives are panning out how they want. And we'll always be there for each other if the need is there.

A true friend doesn't care if your house is untidy, your car makes funny noises, if you have only $5.00 in the bank this week, or that your family is not perfect...they love you for who you are. A true friend can go long periods of time without speaking and never question their friendship.

1 comment:

Caitlin said...

bro im sorry you have to move again. but great news- the bros will never be separated because we are a brohood.