Having A Moment...

Packing sucks. Moving sucks. Gone are the days of offering up some pizza and beer to a few Marines who can play real life Tetris with all of my belongings in the back of a U Haul truck. I don't even have to pack and move near as much stuff but it still sucks. I've pretty much lived in the same spandex shorts and tank top for the last three days and I walk around the house figuring out what can go in storage and what I might need over the next six weeks.

I seriously have the best friend in the entire world. She opened up her home to not only me, but the girls and even the psychotic dogs while we go through the limbo of waiting for our new home to be ready. I know she will refuse just about every type of payment possible but I'm gonna find a way. And then I'm gonna have to secretly gift her things like random bottles of champagne over the next year or ten :)  I love her and her husband for their willingness to help and for just being awesome people. We need more people like them.

So I'm sitting on my bed now. Suitcases out as I pack enough clothes to survive on for a few weeks. I'm thinking I might be smart and make the rest of my clothes easily accessible in storage in the event our triple digit days all of a sudden turn into winter... doubtful but i can dream :) I have boxes and boxes and boxes from the kitchen. i have boxes of blankets, towels, and sheets. I have boxes of all the random stuff I collect in my bathroom. Boxes of shoes and clothes. All slowly but surely filling up my storage unit. And I still have more.

I have a drawer of things I don't usually wear but can't get rid of. Mostly a couple sweatshirts and my Ariel onesie... and a LSAT book. One sweatshirt though... I often forget is there. Folded up nicely. Definitely hasn't been washed in a very, very long time. Its a South Medford Bowling sweatshirt. Because we were a team and teams had matching stuff. Bowling might not be the coolest thing to you (or me honestly) but we were really freaking good and we dominated the bowling world for 4 years. But this isn't just any sweatshirt. It belonged to my dad. Over the chest his name is embroidered... Mike. 

I miss him so freaking much. If he were here right now, watching me go through this divorce and moving and figuring out how to be single again.. he would be right by my side packing boxes, driving back and forth to the storage unit, and most importantly, listening to me gripe when I'm irritated and also reminding me of God's grace and glory. He'd be sneaking out the front door with the girls to go get Slurpee's and feeding my dogs treat after treat for their bad behavior.

Not to long ago I invited Shayne and his girl friend over to the house for dinner. I wanted to meet her and just get it all over with but I also needed the garbage disposal fixed. I have had a lot of anxiety and agitation over the new girlfriend... not so much him moving on, but just how some of it went down and how immature we have been at times with all of the changes. I needed to be an adult... the bigger person. And so I did it. After they had left for the evening, I commented to the girls that it went much better than I expected and I was happy about it all.

Then... from the kitchen, a little voice pipped up... "why couldn't you just wait till I was older to do this?" You know the feeling of a brick to the gut... this was worse. I knew what she meant, but I asked her anyways... "what do you mean, Kay?" She replied with "all the divorce stuff. Why couldn't you make it work so we don't have to go back and forth all the time." UGH.....

Sweet baby girl, I promise you we tried. You and your sisters were the hardest part of all of this. We both wanted so badly to have a happy family but we just couldn't do it. So much I'd like to say about that but I don't think the internet is the right place... I think I cuddled with her for a good hour. Smelling her stinky hair, rubbing her sweaty back. Cherishing her sweet little innocence.

I truly hope my parents didn't feel like failures. I saw a lot growing up that maybe I shouldn't have seen, but I saw so much more. I hope my girls will look back one day and not remember these difficult months of moving and frustrations but remember their dad and I simply present with them. My parents showed up. My parents did what was best in each moment, or at least what they thought was best. While we have all taken our own paths in adulthood, we all took something from our parents. I'd be blessed to know that my girls carried out something I did as they were growing up. It will likely be the ability to annoy and embarrass their own kids, but its something.

Daddy, I still miss you. Every single day. I think about you often as I go about all the things I have to get done each day. Love you, dad. So, so much.