Mission: Move to Another Province; COMPLETE

An overwhelming sense of relief and accomplishment would be the perfect words to describe my feelings of completing this move. However, it's not. I feel this tight little ball in the middle of my stomach that just seems to tighten and tighten like something is not quite right. Hold on...

Okay. I adjusted my pants and that is MUCH better. Now I can honestly say that I have an overwhelming sense of relief and accomplishment. It's been an unbelievably difficult journey to gather up the contents of my house and my life and store them to be shipped here later or to decide whether or not I should just chuck all the junk. And when I managed to leave that to the very last minute, I panicked and could feel my chest get a sharp pain. Once I took Tums and managed to get rid of all the indigestion, I came to my senses and shifted into overdrive. Unfortunately, that not only burned myself out, but it put a massive strain on Bram. He had to deal with all the emotions that my brain (and tear ducts) seemed to be filtering. It was one item after another that eventually took its toll on my already-too-tired noggin and Bram was forced to send me to my parents' place with the kids so he could grab a shovel and just empty each room into a garbage bag. A rather large garbage bag...

Emotional disaster was nearing its hideous peak and threatened to destroy all sanity that I was dearly clinging to. Each tear I shed was quickly wiped away and hidden in the seams of my jeans. Each item that I tried to sort through was a site of ruins in the back of my father's truck, quickly choosing if it was going to fit into any of the 10 bags I packed for the plane ride. Realizing, in a painful, heartwretching manner, I knew this was it. We were not only NOT going to be able to sort through everything in time before we had to catch our ride to the airport, but that there was just simply no room. Things that I wish I could have brought with me, that are currently stored in Bram's childhood toybox (it would be weird if he had an adulthood toybox), are there waiting for us in the shadows. In the midst of all the stored items from other family members, I have left behind some of the favored items that I never thought I would part with. I WILL come back at some point to get those items, no pretending here that a flood happened to our basement and destroyed all items so that they could not be salvaged. Yes, I did pretend that so that I could just deal with everything at the moment and toss it all (except the obvious like photo albums, scrapbooks, etc.). I will, however, not stay. I will gather my things and leave once again. Not because I don't want to stay, but because saying "goodbye" was one of the hardest things I ever had to do...

I left something MUCH more precious than all of those items combined; I left my daughter. Now, before you think that I'm this terrible, horrible mother that should deserve the worst in life (I didn't say you didn't have to think that, I just said before you do. I already think like this, otherwise I wouldn't have put it), I want everybody to know that this move was one of the toughest decisions I've ever had to make in my entire life. I have reasoned with my brain and managed to come up with a condition for me moving to another province; my little girl (11 years old) will spend the summers with me. Then we've got to convince her grandparents (mostly her grandmother; my mother) that she's okay to come out here even when it's not summer; she could come in the fall, winter, spring, anytime that she wishes to come, I will GLADLY welcome her with open arms. I would rather have her here than have everything with me that I squeezed into all of those suitcases. I did not want to bring her for the reason that my parents have guardianship of her and I do not want her to have to start all over making new friends, starting a new school, coming to a world that would be difficult for her to adjust to. Plus, I'm sure she'd miss her grandparents just too much. Okay. NOW you can feel free to think that I'm a terrible, horrible mother that should deserve the worst in life.

This move has been horrible. But I'm here now, and I'm finally able to breathe just that little bit more, able to expand my lungs and fight the tears for just a moment longer. At least until I go to soak in the tub and realize that there are no towels in the bathroom and the house is full of people...