Moving from Florida

cat sleeping in empty cardboard moving box Downstairs, my wife is listening to a Motown playlist while making dinner. It’s the music of her home and a celebratory fist pump in knowing she’s returning to it. After many weeks of searching, and being outbid several times, we’ve finally secured a house in Michigan and our relief is palpable.

A bit of sadness accompanies that relief. Moving means leaving and we will greatly miss our life here and the people that filled it. We must also say goodbye to the backyard birds who helped us survive the 2020 lockdown. We leave them the tropical flowers they are so fond of dancing through and feel assured that their cycle never required us in the first place.

Downstairs, the next track begins and The Temptations appropriately croon about wherever you lay your hat being your home. I remind myself to keep looking ahead and, as L. M. Sacasas so eloquently states, ”attend lovingly to the world on the assumption that it has something of value to disclose to us and a reservoir of beauty to enrich our lives.”


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