packing and unpacking…

I grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio in the 70’s and 80’s. Every time I hear the phrase “packing and unpacking” I am reminded of the theme song for the television sitcom “WKRP in Cincinnati.”

I just can’t get it out of my head these days because needless to say, I’ve grown tired of packing and unpacking. Having just moved this past weekend from Nashville back to Chicago I am fully engaged in the practice of unpacking, arranging, updating, getting bearings…

Growing up I remember well that when someone moved away it was a big deal. People did not move quite as easily or as often perhaps back then. We moved once when I was a kid but only a few blocks from our old house. My friends stayed the same, my school, church and grocery store were the same. But I had a good friend move across town and it may as well have been across the globe. After they’d gone my siblings and I would stare across the street at what used to be their house and sigh. We’d hoped for another family to move in but alas, it was an older couple I think. We may have brought them cookies or a pound cake when they moved in, we did that kind of thing when I was a kid. The “welcome wagon” was real.

I suppose today I’m just pondering about how transient Dave and I have been this last couple of decades. It’s exhausting and exhilarating too. On a bad day we lament the lack of neighborhood stability. We pine for the cul de sac, the grass always being greener. We don’t have any grass now, we’ve traded that for concrete and construction vehicles…a faster pace, a wider view. It’s good. I’m not complaining, just taking it apart on the page a little. My head is running out of disk space and the boxes, the boxes are calling…

more on this to come…

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