26 March 2011


Everything we own on the back of a semi

That's what my husband said yesterday when he called to tell me that the moving company had finished taking everything we had left in our 1,100-sf condo and packing it all into a single shipping container that fit nicely on the back of a semi. 

At that time, I had finally stopped bawling my eyes out in my boss' office. That is, until my husband used the word, "homeless." In all fairness, I did warn my boss with a single step into his office that he should get ready - the tears were coming. Luckily, or completely on par for Todd, he came prepared. A box of tissues inside a steel cover was positioned on the corner of his desk closest to the chair in which I would be sitting. So, for the next 30 minutes, I sat in his office and cried. And cried, and cried and cried as if I were watching the end of a Nicholas Sparks movie. 

Todd assured me that moving across the planet is a good thing and reminded me that I would be back before the end of the year. He was right. I didn't cry this much when I left Jersey. In fact, I don't think I cried at all. But, then again, who would? I eventually gained my composure in time to say my final farewells and head back to my house to stick my head in an oven.

After the final cleaning and walk through our now-former home, we said good-bye to the house and headed out of town, knowing that it was no longer home. We are looking forward to our last few days with family before leaving on jet plane to that mythical place called Singapore. 

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