We’ve arrived here in Chicago, all of us now…Lewis, our cat, is adjusting to the smallest place possible in our little apartment, the closet. Iliana has her Papa tonight and me, well, I get some time to drink hot tea and write.
It has indeed been a whirlwind…packing, setting out for the road with a full car and a two year old, thinking I could do it in two days and nearly going mad after Day 1, unpacking each night and then packing up again the next morning with my little helper just steps behind, making it nearly noon each day before we left the hotel. This whole moving journey has been one big lesson in trust. It has taken way longer than we expected at every turn and yet I keep saying there’s a reason for it beyond what we know or understand. I have had to completely let go and to continue letting go at every moment. The most difficult is when I fight against it and try to maintain some sort of control, this is where the “nearly going mad” sets in.
I feel like having a baby was my first big lesson in letting go, receiving help and learning to trust. This whole moving thing seems to be Stage 2 of that lesson. I think it’s probably testing to see if all the kinks have been worked out.
One thing I’ve learned about myself, that I already knew but have seen ever so clearly in this big transition, is that when I’m anxious, stressed, nervous, my tendency is to get mad at whatever or whoever. I have seen it over and over again during the past few months and now I can almost see it coming, yet it still sneaks up on me and is so believable when it does.
It is so very cold here, truly. My hands nearly fell off when I went out to the car today. I need some new, very warm gloves. Yet there is something heartening about being inside, warm, with christmas lights on and hearing the wind and the weather outside. The starkness of the land here is reassuring in some way that I can not yet describe. I will say, I just like hearing the wind howling out there. It feels good to know that nature has its own plans.
Take care in this new year my dear sisters and brothers.
Inside my head and heart: this story about an adoptive mother, the blessing of having children running through one’s home from this post and my daughter telling me the names of people who are “inside my heart”.