Just keep moving...

Everything right now hinges around the move this weekend. Sometimes I get really excited, sometimes I get a little apprehensive. Other times, I feel a bit nostalgic, but mostly I want to get it over so I can get to the nitty- gritty of my life. Been less than a month since Nicky went back to live with his mom and that still is a weight in my heart. It is hard to cope with the silence and the adult order that now reigns over my place. No laughter, no toys lying around, no dirty little clothes to pick up. The PS3 waiting anxiously for someone to turn it on... I wonder if the whirlwind of emotions is ever going to stop, but the hormone levels have not shown any signs of compassion.

I am excited about my move because it is the first time in eight years. I remember how excited I was to move from Peru to the US, twenty years ago. I knew I was not going to see my college friends anymore, and the two people I knew here (mom and sis) knew basically nothing about me. Yeah, I didn't want to come up here, but that was the only option. I remember the first year I felt terribly isolated and I was soo homesick. I missed my grandparents, whom I had lived for a long time with. Needless to say, I never saw them alive again, and that has always bothered me to the point that I refuse to go back to Peru for a visit. Never heard back from my college friends after a year either. 25 years later, I don't have any idea of what happened to them. They stopped writing to me and cellphones were not in widespread use back then. ( that makes me feel prehistoric :-P)

Moving to Michigan for 3 years increased my irritation towards moving. I lived several years near the frozen lakes and their terrible snow belts. I did enjoy the change of seasons and rural atmosphere but something was calling me back to the great South Florida megalopolis so I moved back. I remember driving the 20 foot U-Haul truck along with a car transport. Did the trip back in 36 hours, non-stop down I-75. It was in coffee and Mountain Dew stupor that I heard over the radio that Joey Ramone had died- I listened to almost 2 hours of Ramones classics, would have been longer but I lost the station as I rumbled on south. I was glad I found my position at my former job open. I also found a rental trailer in the park I had lived before moving up north. My kids had celebrity status in the park. Before them, the owner had refused to rent to people with babies. My then spouse and I had appealed to him, cuz basically we had nowhere else to go. And thus Lil P was the first baby born in the park. Literally. The day the water broke, Renee was inside the trailer and I was grilling dinner outside. She came out and told me she thought her water was about to break, and as she said so... Don't remember what happened to my dinner but I remember we used every available towel on the way to the hospital. But most of my friends in the park have moved on, and it is not the same with strangers I barely know. Nicky didn't want anything to do with the new kids in the park this year, and that was another sign that told me it was time.

This time, however will be in itself another challenge. No more male dude around the neighborhood. Just Laura... will keep you posted :-)