Of Gypsies and Cowboys

The time is near; the moment of stepping into our new life will soon be upon us. One week from tomorrow, my husband will drop me at the airport with the baby and we will fly west while he travels through the mountains with our vehicle.

I am terrified.
I am ecstatic.
I am wondering just what we are thinking.

As I write, I am sitting in a newly barren livingroom. While away visiting a dear friend, J held a moving sale. The furniture, extra clothes, books, movies, pictures, shelves, and so many things I was yet clinging to, are now adorning the homes of others. What didn't sell was given to friends or the thrift store. When I walked into the 'renovated' house this week for the first time, I had to stop, swallow, and hold my tongue for several minutes as I processed. Sadly, I did not hold my tongue for quite long enough and was soon berating my partner for the thoroughness of his actions. (however, he DID give away items which I had thought we were keeping; my dishtowels, my cherished kitchen clock, the bookshelf.... But, well, read on.).
While I thought I was prepared for the visible reality of what we are doing, 'losing' some of my things, even just simple things like towels, struck me deeply. I was so sad, and then allowed myself to be so angry! I wanted my things! I want my things! If we're going to get rid of them then let's at least get a pretty penny in return, right? We could have made more, we could still own more, we could look a little more 'settled' or 'successful'.
After a few minutes. Nope. After several hours, I was able to appreciate, truly, this next step we had taken. I began to consider the meaning of 'value' and 'importance' and how quickly I say, "But this is important!" and "I need this!" I began to embrace the fact that I have much to learn and much to understand within this new lifestyle. I confessed that I had chosen tea towels over peace in my household. (and, unknown to me, J trucked over to the thrift store to reclaim my clock [apparently sold already], and grab a little table for the livingroom for the next few days :) )

So now, the livingroom literally echoes, but at the moment it is echoing with the babbling of my son and the smile of my husband. The kitchen smells like peppermint and lavender, there is wine decanting for later this evening, and fresh coffee is airing in the other room. We are relaxing this evening, hoping to find a point of rest and perhaps some energy before pressing on through the weekend.
This time next week we'll be tarping the trailer and sharing our last meal in this special little house. This time next week I'll have said good bye to my sweet girlfriends. One week and one day marks the end and the beginning and the realization to the conversation.

So, a wee bit scared and a whole lot hopeful, a tinge of skeptical and a whole lot of maybe.