I don’t move often and now I remember why. Moving is not a month-long endeavor; it’s a year-long endurance test. I am still in this battle, even though the actual move is over.
It’s the little things that keep us going when we think we can’t, and at the very moment I felt I couldn’t, I found a box on my kitchen stoop containing a complete home-cooked dinner, including chicken, sides, rolls, drinks and the most delicious lemon squares I’ve ever had in my life. There was also a note of “welcome,” and never has the word meant more than at that moment.
After this huge meal I lay prostrate on the bed trying not to think of anything but the heavy raindrops hitting the leaves that had accumulated over the past several years in the yard of this old house. “What a strange sounding rain,” I thought.
Moments later I needed something from the car and was surprised to find the ground around me bone dry though the sound of raindrops continued. Then it hit me, literally, along with another and another. It was raining acorns! The trees in my wood are full of squirrels who shake the acorns down by the thousands. It was the strangest experience dodging these little bombs, and it took a leap of faith to look up and watch the squirrels fly from tree to tree, jostling the limbs to release what will become a large winter stash.
I thought I’d better put the car in the garage in case one of those limbs came down with all those acorns, and in doing so I realized my gas tank was near empty. So I headed into town, which is little more than a village, and found the nearest filling station. Just as I started to place the nozzle in the tank and brace for that horrid gas smell I try so hard to avoid, I turned my head and got the biggest whiff of warm freshly-baked bread. Hum?
Because it’s so hilly here, with the roads going either up or down while curving wildly and blindly, I didn’t realize I was across the street from the entrance to a Sara Lee Bakery; a bakery so large, the smell of cookies, cakes and fresh bread permeates the entire area.
There is so much yet to discover, but one thing remains eerily familiar. This is what the world, my world, should look like. That I have moved is certainly true. But how I perceive it is that I have come home. And it is the best feeling in the world to be home again.