Cardboard Boxes and Packing Tape

Being in the military means being unbelievably familiar with the unannounced and vexatious riiiiiiippp of masking tape and the melancholy of leaving life behind. The uncomfortable wrapping of precious items accompanied by the unsure and skeptical suspicion that furniture will never look the same again. The sensation of hot, humid air permeating the coldest and safest cracks. The parading of every personal item you’ve ever owned across the eyes of neighbors and workers you’ll never know.

Especially during these times, I’m so thankful for the support of communities and organizations around the country in helping with transitions and adjustments, because it’s a hard thing, moving. Frequent instances of relocation don’t make the lifestyle change any easier either. It’s a fun thing too though, sitting on a plane or in a stuffed-full-of-priceless-possessions car, driving off into the great unknown. Starting over. Beginning again.

Being left, however, is new to me. Yesterday, during what looked like a traditional load-up-the-moving-truck-as-we-send-our-kid-away-to-college ordeal, we finished packing the essential living necessities and waved goodbye to my parents as they set off for Colorado. There aren’t many situations in life where a drastic change occurs with the slow departure of a bright yellow moving truck. Usually adjustments happen gradually. But I know that life will never be the same. It’s not like they’re gone forever or that life is going to be horrible, it’s just that life will never be the same again.

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And change hurts. Watching loved ones leave hurts. I’m excited to spend time in the Centennial State, absorbing the unique culture, finding new best places to eat, and (of course) exploring the great outdoors, but the tangible absence of one parent is hard. New and different, but hard.

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