If you read my last blog — which I’m SURE everyone did — you know that I’m leaving the Daily Globe and Worthington.
(Just in case you missed it, I’ll be nice. Here’s a link: sportshack.areavoices.com/2016/04/07/the-unintended-consequence-of-happiness/)
During the past couple of weeks, I’ve slowly but surely been packing, getting ready for the big move back to Kansas. I’ve spent my free time going through all of my things, assessing what can be packed up now, what I might need yet and what can probably be thrown out. I’ve gone through clothes and found that I have an alarming number of socks that don’t seem to have a mate. (Seriously, is sock hoarding a thing?)
Each day, as more belongings are moved from their rightful place into a box or plastic bin, my house seems to get emptier. It’s to the point now where basically all that remains is large furniture and a few basic essentials; the coffee pot, microwave, tea kettle — things that must stay until minutes before I pull out of the driveway.
I’ve never liked packing. (Really, does anyone?) But I’m remembering now why it bothers me so much. Seeing bare walls and emptiness where my stuff used to be seems to be what really drives in the reality of leaving for me. This will be my third move to somewhere far away in a little more than four years. Though I’m excited for what’s next, the leaving part never gets any easier.
This past weekend was my last in Worthington. It was fantastic. I was able to take a little half-day trip with one of my favorite people and explore places I’d been meaning to visit since landing in southwest Minnesota. I got a VERY unexpected surprise visit from two more great friends who have since moved away. I spent Saturday with friends and coworkers playing games and laughing uncontrollably.
My decision to leave was — as it always seems to be — difficult, to say the least. It’s because of times like this past weekend that’s the case. It was a reminder of the life and — much more importantly — the relationships I’ve built here.
For the past two years, this has been my home. Just as my stuff has filled up an empty house and made it mine, those relationships and the people who have helped make me feel so loved have filled up my life. Now, as my house gets emptier each day, I’m reminded of the voids that will be left when I’m unable to see those people every day.
I’ve always been the type of person who values experiences a lot more than “stuff.” I’d much rather spend my money on a trip or seeing a ballgame or a concert than buying the latest gadget. Though my things are in boxes and bins right now, I know that when I arrive in Kansas I will unpack them and they’ll be there. Some of the people who fill my life will still be here, and that’s what makes leaving so hard.
My life certainly won’t be completely void of relationships when I get to Emporia. I already have great friends there as well, and I’m really excited to spend more time with them. But that doesn’t make leaving the people I value here any less difficult.
Perhaps it’s a bit selfish, but not unlike socks, I think I tend to hoard relationships. I can’t have too many and, though I might be leaving, I refuse to throw them out.