Last Week

This week has been crazy.  So much to do, so many people to see for the last time in awhile.  Not knowing when I’ll, or even if, I’ll see people again makes these hugs and kisses more difficult than usual.  Goodbyes are not my forte—ask anyone I’ve dated. 

As of Sunday night, everything in my beautiful little apartment was neatly packed, ready to go in the morning.  Mom came over Monday and we loaded one and a half truckloads out of my little one-bedroom and into a 10 x 10 storage unit in the rain.  The rest of the day was spent running around town and taking apart the monster bookshelf.  I had been dreading taking the thing apart since I put it together, the first night I spent in my own little place.  It took me four hours to assemble and forty-five minutes to take apart. 

Monday night was the third of four parties that people have been nice enough to a) put together and b) show up to in the past few weeks.  I’ve told a few people that I really didn’t think anyone would care that much that I was leaving.  I had no clue that they would take time out of their lives to not only show up to a party, but write notes and letters and buy me gas cards for the road.  It blows my mind.  Everyone has been so encouraging and in such support of this huge life decision I’m making right now.  I need that encouragement right now, because this week has not had a whole lot of “happy” moments; rather, many goodbyes and letting go moments.  As previously stated, I am not good at letting go, so I need to move on to the adventure part of this saga before I start thinking too much about what I’ve lost.

Tuesday was the day I officially moved out of my first place.  That was not fun in any way, shape, or form.  I loved living there and had so many good memories.  Putting that damn bookshelf together, assembling my little table and chairs, studying for NCLEX, keeping my own little place clean—reconnecting with friends that I’d missed for many years, many good conversations and even more glasses of wine .  Having a silent sanctuary when I’d been in a loud, obnoxious ER all night, a place to stay in when God decided four solid inches of ice was what Indy needed this past February.  I cooked for friends and cried by myself and paid bills and wrote letters and kept myself company for a year, and I loved it.  I am so grateful for the time I spent in Apt 304.  It was really, really hard to hand over the keys and drive away.

After another great party thrown by awesome people, today came with final goodbyes to the last of the friends, and the first of the very close family.  Grandma and I went out today for lunch and spent a couple of hours talking together for the last time in awhile.  She did a really good job of not crying until the last minute.  I hate to see her cry. 

I spent the afternoon on paperwork: getting the rest of my travel nurse paperwork together for Cross Country, completing every step besides the fingerprinting for my California license endorsement, and sending off the rest of the bills.  Dinner with the fam, a last minute drug screen (seriously?), and now I’m sitting in the living room typing, as everyone else is in their own space or asleep.

It’s my last night at 728 feet; the next time I sleep in a bed, I’ll be in Portland, Oregon.