Moving day is here. We are being attacked by a cardboard mountain. Tomorrow I drive to Omaha with my little family. The day after I drive to Colorado. My friends act like I’m dying. I’ve gotten plenty of long hugs and teary eyes.
I am not dying. I am moving. A few people have flat out told me that I’ve made a difference in their lives, and I don’t know what to say, other than thank you all for making a difference in mine. I’ve always needed friends – needed a community. I haven’t had to go through this life and its struggles alone, and I am so grateful to all of you for that.
We wait to say these beautiful things. We wait for goodbyes to say these things. And I wonder what the world would be like if we said them more often, if we didn’t wait for a friend to move or pass on.
“Thanks for saving my family,” a neighbor told my husband. He helped them during an accident. There’s a story there. It’s kind of like that movie, “It’s a Wonderful Life.” What would the world be like without my husband? I am so proud of him for all he does.
As for my goodbyes, I keep hearing “thanks for all you’ve done for the writing community,” from people. But really, in my case, they’ve got it backwards. Thanks to the writing community here in Chicago for all they’ve done for me.