As our transition from RV to house becomes almost complete I am starkly reminded of the fact that the friends who we left in Denver when we went on the road are not the same people now. I'm not even sure if we can even call them friends now. We certainly cannot rely on them as our support system now.
There is such a sense of loss with that and even more of an awareness of just how alone we really are now. It's a stark example of true existential loneliness.
Walt is flying back to Florida from Denver tonight where he went to oversee the splitting up of our stuff that has been in storage the whole three and a half years we have been on the road. Our 'house contents' basically under lock and key waiting for the next phase.
Less than half of what was in the storage will make the trip to Florida. We did a crowdfunding call and collected enough money to only pay for 350 cubic feet. We had over 900 cubic feet of stuff. The whole letting go of attachments was draining but also freeing. We are so grateful to the people who donated - it couldn't have happened without your help.
There is sadness as we close the door on calling Colorado home. Of our old friends only one could free themselves up to help or connect with Walt. The person that helped was one of our 'newer' Denver friends. The 'old' friends were nowhere to be found.
I was very angry about this and was expressing that to my dad when he said. 'They are not the same people now as when you left. You can't go home. Home isn't there anymore'.
I had thought of 85 different lectures and confrontations I would have with these friends. But alas, after my dad's sage observation I understand I have to let them go.
My kids and grandkids are still there. It's IS their home. They showed up to help and were amazing! It is no longer my home. And as the true gypsy I realize that home is where I am at the moment. I am here now in Florida. I did not come here to break connections and strands but that is a side effect. I came here because of my health and my husband's health.
I planted zuchinni in the ground outside last week. It is a metaphor for the planting that is taking place for us now in this new place. I still do not have any sense or feeling that I will actually be here to harvest them.
I realize too that maybe I have nothing my old friends need anymore. I can't teach them how to live and thrive in the same, familiar place. I can't teach them a way to signal it's time to clean the fridge because I only do that when I move. I do have a guest room near the beach so I hope they will find their way to us here.
46 moves for me and 30 something for Walt makes us outcasts and on the fringe. It is lonely but there IS a sense of freedom about it. With strands and most old attachments broken it leaves me and us open to new things. That's scary and I know because we have faced that fear over and over we may be the craziest yet most courageous people I know.
This is the view from Bruno's new PetSmart in Daytona Beach, FL after a heavy downpour on February 25, 2013. In the distance is the Daytona 500 Speedway where Danica Patrick set multiple new records for "firsts" for women in racing during Opening Day racing the day before. From here I drove 14 miles south to New Smyrna Beach, where we live at 4:30 pm on a Monday on I-95.
There is such a sense of loss with that and even more of an awareness of just how alone we really are now. It's a stark example of true existential loneliness.
Walt is flying back to Florida from Denver tonight where he went to oversee the splitting up of our stuff that has been in storage the whole three and a half years we have been on the road. Our 'house contents' basically under lock and key waiting for the next phase.
Less than half of what was in the storage will make the trip to Florida. We did a crowdfunding call and collected enough money to only pay for 350 cubic feet. We had over 900 cubic feet of stuff. The whole letting go of attachments was draining but also freeing. We are so grateful to the people who donated - it couldn't have happened without your help.
There is sadness as we close the door on calling Colorado home. Of our old friends only one could free themselves up to help or connect with Walt. The person that helped was one of our 'newer' Denver friends. The 'old' friends were nowhere to be found.
I was very angry about this and was expressing that to my dad when he said. 'They are not the same people now as when you left. You can't go home. Home isn't there anymore'.
I had thought of 85 different lectures and confrontations I would have with these friends. But alas, after my dad's sage observation I understand I have to let them go.
My kids and grandkids are still there. It's IS their home. They showed up to help and were amazing! It is no longer my home. And as the true gypsy I realize that home is where I am at the moment. I am here now in Florida. I did not come here to break connections and strands but that is a side effect. I came here because of my health and my husband's health.
I planted zuchinni in the ground outside last week. It is a metaphor for the planting that is taking place for us now in this new place. I still do not have any sense or feeling that I will actually be here to harvest them.
I realize too that maybe I have nothing my old friends need anymore. I can't teach them how to live and thrive in the same, familiar place. I can't teach them a way to signal it's time to clean the fridge because I only do that when I move. I do have a guest room near the beach so I hope they will find their way to us here.
46 moves for me and 30 something for Walt makes us outcasts and on the fringe. It is lonely but there IS a sense of freedom about it. With strands and most old attachments broken it leaves me and us open to new things. That's scary and I know because we have faced that fear over and over we may be the craziest yet most courageous people I know.
This is Walt's rental car outside of his the La Quinta Hotel in Aurora, CO on Sunday morning, February 24, 2013.
This is the view from Bruno's new PetSmart in Daytona Beach, FL after a heavy downpour on February 25, 2013. In the distance is the Daytona 500 Speedway where Danica Patrick set multiple new records for "firsts" for women in racing during Opening Day racing the day before. From here I drove 14 miles south to New Smyrna Beach, where we live at 4:30 pm on a Monday on I-95.
Peace be with you and all that jazz.....
For the latest update and status on how thing are going with Adam and Cadence check out the latest post at Keep Adam & Cadence Together crowdfunding
Copyright (c) 2013. Chardale Irvine. All rights reserved.
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