About 36 hours from now, the movers will be loading the last of our furniture and boxes upon boxes of books on to the truck. By this time next week we will be getting acquainted with our new home; if we’re lucky, our furniture will have just arrived as well. In less than a month, both of us will be heading off for our first day of classes — him in middle school, and me in graduate school.
It’s a new chapter in a story that seems to have taken a bit of a dogleg recently, as though the author decided to engage in some stream of consciousness in the middle of an otherwise straightforward narrative, and is now returning to a more conventional means of story-telling. At least, I hope that’s the case. I’m not keen to put myself, or my son, through any more upheaval for a while. If all goes well, we can count on at least 2 years there; I hope it will turn out to be more.