I’ve started to pack. Where did the last two years go? There’s been some good times here. A lot of tough times. This has been a wonderful, nurturing home for me though. So full of light and beauty. I’ve never stopped being grateful for it. Now I’m wondering, where will I go? Will it be as good? Will it be good to me? I’m not too handy with the unknown. I have my whole list of what I want and need in a place. Number one is quiet. This place is at the crossroads of two busy streets – its only minus. Oh how I wish it was all over and done already! Or I wish I owned a place, so I didn’t have to think about moving, although I know home ownership comes with its own set of problems. It’s a time of just putting one foot in front of the other. I have about six weeks. I’m not leaving it all to the end. I have a finite number of weekends to pack. I’m going to be kind to myself and do this at a measured pace so I don’t have to kill myself at the end. It sure is tough though. It’s tough to pack up so many things that I have such attachment to, that have such meaning to me. It’s tough to take down the artwork that the nieces and nephews made. Their little love-bombs, all over my house. They embrace me, all day, every day. I’m beginning to miss them already. I really didn’t foresee having to leave this place before I was ready, or without a choice. I need to be relentless in my belief that everything will be ok. Just not consider any other option. That’s going to be my strategy. Just trust. Ok. Back to packing.