Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Tick, Tick, Tick

Time hasn't really had much meaning for me this year.


When I thought I had a handle on it, I found it skipping away just beyond the reach of my fingertips.  I yearned to harness it.  I wanted to break it up into smaller, more manageable chunks and elongate every moment.  I've tried everything to slow it down but I give up.  I am resigned to sit quietly as it whooshes past, leaving me barely able to comprehend the date I see each morning on my desk clock.

For nearly ten months, Dallas and I have been planning our departure from America.  I have coped by immersing myself in work and focusing on just putting one foot in front of the other.  It was a good plan up until Labour Day and then, something gave way.

I'm not sure if it was the change in temperature or the mad scramble to tie up loose ends like doctor and dentist appointments but whatever the catalyst, I have suddenly found myself walking into our garage to get water only to become disoriented when faced with the newly empty space where our fridge once sat.  I have several panic-filled moments each day worrying who will do my hair in Auckland.  I've been to see the same girl, my friend, in Arkansas, every five weeks for the last ten years.   I study maps of the North Island of New Zealand trying to memorize the spaghetti-like twist of the different roads wondering how long it will be before their bends become familiar. 

Moving is scary.

Moving is harder as one ages.

When I arrived in San Diego, California on April 3rd, 1993 with a suitcase, a backpack and almost nothing else, I was electrified with the possibilities that my new life would certainly offer.  Eighteen years later,  I am wife to an amazing man, mother to two beautiful children and president of my own company.  The United States has been very, very good to me.  

And now, America will afford me the unique option to split our time with another country so my husband will be whole and so my children will be graced with a huge chunk of world as their oyster.  With a Canadian mum, a Kiwi stepfather and being American born, Dylan and Liv will be able to live and work in Canada, Australia, New Zealand, the US and many European countries.  How's that for opportunity? 

My only complaint is time.  I don't seem to have enough of it and what is available seems to pass too quickly to file away into memory.  Now begins the next major phase of my life and I am concerned that when I'm older and the frenetic pace has slowed; when the occasion comes to reflect upon this newest adventure and what it meant for our family, I won't remember.  

And I want to.  

I want to savour every delicious second of this journey.

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3 comments:

The Bipolar Diva said...

and a wonderful journey it will be!

Ro said...

"I have several panic-filled moments each day worrying who will do my hair in Auckland." Whitest sentence EVER! LMAO!

Mark N said...

Hell, some days I can't even remember what I did the day before.

But the good memories, the ones that really count, they never fade. Fear not.