The Long & Slow Goodbye

A closing date is set. Movers are planned. A personal vow to pack each and every weeknight from 6:30 - 8:30PM from now until October has been etched. I think to myself that a little bit at a time will ease the process of moving from my home in downtown Chicago to my new residence in Iowa. It's a battle. One picture taken off the wall throws it's first gash into my heartbroken chest, while the image of a new ceiling fan that completes the perfect look for my new dining room cuts it's hot metal blade into the nail and hanging wire, making it bow at my feet.

Sunday afternoon, just before Eric left for military school, we hugged each other in the center of our beautiful apartment. The apartment that I moved us to while he was in Iraq. Blood, sweat and tears went into every paint color, every decorative pillow, every specifically placed tchotchke. This has been our first home. He kissed my forward and tears came to my eyes. Gently placing his house keys on the kitchen counter top, he softly whispered. "This place did great for us hun, you did great." Then his next words echoed in my brain, words that he says over and over to me. "We're not meant to stay here, we're meant to move forward."

He will be at military school till November, and I will close this chapter for us both. Then I will open another one. In a new state, making a new home. Starting over. Moving forward. I promised Eric that in our new home that I would re-create our beloved chalkboard wall from our Chicago apartment. Guests throughout the years have left messages both funny and thoughtful. It is a colorful reminder of how loved we are. "We gotta do that again" he said.

I'm planning. I'm slowly moving forward, knowing that we're not meant to stand still. Wanting to do good for Eric, for us....for myself.