Two weeks and three days to go

My back went out this week from moving a couch and my mood has turned south. It makes it hard to clear out a house when you can’t bend over or lift anything.

So many details, both physical and emotional, that I am sorting through.

Big transitions can do that to you, I am told. They can bring you back to hard transition times of the past.

I’ve moved a lot in the past. But two moves were the hardest.

First, when I went to college and second, when we moved to Boston for my husband’s year of grad school.

In both situations, I felt lonely and isolated.

I went to GW knowing no one. Once my mom helped me bring my suitcases into my dorm room and made my bed for me, she was gone. That’s when it hit me. I was all alone. With no backup. She was moving to Atlanta as my parents were divorcing. A place little known to me. I was in a totally new environment with only a few hundred dollars to my name from tip money waiting tables the summer before. I was in the big leagues. Though my grades suffered that first semester, I did discover something that would prove to save me. I made it onto the rowing team. And somehow, through much struggle and growth, I survived. More than survived. I met people who have become lifelong friends and finished my career at GW with an MBA.

In Boston, it was different. I was married and we were going together. After moving into an apartment that didn’t feel quite right, looking back, I realize we took a very naive approach to that move. I was working random early morning and evening hours. My husband was in a terrific program at the Kennedy School, meeting interesting people and enjoying his courses as well as the cohort happy hours. I was slogging through my job out of sense of duty.

Thankfully, three things saved me that year. 1) My husband’s insistence on self care including weekend retreats to Kirpalu, a yoga center in the Berkshires, 2) our dog, Martin, with whom I walked every street within a mile of Harvard Yard, and 3) rowing with Riverside Boat Club and competing in the Head of the Charles regatta again. And luckily that year ended and we moved on.