I packed my schedule in the last month in LA with get togethers with friends. I was happy to see everyone and didn't want to get sad about leaving. Mom went back to visit family in Taiwan and it was a tear-free goodbye. I'm not sure if I really didn't feel like I was moving that far away, or maybe I've turned off that part of my brain so I wouldn't just break down. Just stay busy and keep pack and unpacking. Get the house cleared, then fill up the new one back up. This time, everything has it's place.
I am finding where I need to go in the new city, but inside I'm feeling a bit lost. I am searching for a new school for Oliver, but scared of what that means for me. Time alone in a big city and time to get back into the job world. Re-decorating the house, but too tense to enjoy the beauty that surrounds me. I feel like I'm just floating. I guess that's normal for being in a new city, having not properly grieved for what's left behind. I am unsettled.
The other day I noticed that one of the windows in our bedroom had a view of a tree with yellow leaves, and the other window was a tree with red leaves. It was romantic and beautiful. And tonight, it was an orange sunset across the sky next to the lit up Manhattan skyline. This new place I call home is magical. I'm taking a deep breath now, reminding myself to just be in the moment.
