When I look at the calendar, the move seems to be fast approaching. Even though we'll move on January 3rd, we actually need to be fully boxed and packed by the 23rd of December, prior to our trek to the ordination site. I've turned down substitute job offer after substitute job offer with the excuse that the box packing must be done in earnest. However, as you can see, here I am blogging. And when I'm not blogging, I'm taking cats to the vet, having lunch with Rab on a regular basis (boy, that's been nice), and running errands that seem to take up more of my day than they really require.
I've been razzing Rab that he's in denial about the whole move. It wasn't until yesterday that he shared the news with his bosses. He kept telling me he was waiting for the final congregational vote. Sometimes, though, I have to wonder if he was secretly hoping the vote might go the other way. He is truly supportive and happy for me - that's not the issue. I think he's a bit tentative about moving to a small town and being a celebrity-of-sorts. Rab is an introverted, big city kind of guy. He'd prefer to fade into the scenery anonymously. Going to some Cheers-like city where everybody knows your name is a bit uncomfortable for him - especially when they'll know his name and he won't know any of theirs. Once we move, he'll continue to work in our current city 3 days a week. While that will help financially, it will likely also slow his assimilation at Jerusalem.Last night, Sony and I talked about the move. It nearly breaks my heart to talk to him about it. I can't imagine moving at the age of 10. For all the "kids are resilient" assurances those who moved as children provide, in my heart of hearts I remember that one of my greatest fears as a child was having to move (we never did...in fact, Mom still lives in that house). Sony is trying to be so positive and logical, saying things like "I know I'll make all sorts of new friends just like I did when we moved here." I admire his optimism, but I also worry that he has the space to tend to his grief. He has such wonderful
friends here and has had such a positive experience living at the Castle. Yes, it's true, he will be fine. I know that. He knows that. It doesn't mean it won't be tough. It doesn't mean it won't be full of grief for awhile. Last night, I saw a glimpse of honesty as he uttered the words, "I don't want to leave my friends here. I've got so many great friends and I love it here." These words were uttered in true Sony I'm-protecting-my-mom style....with a smile on his face. I love him. In many ways, he is my role model - full of grace and compassion.Minky? Well, he seems to be doing ok. Rab and I have become Minky cheerleaders and that seems to have eased his anxiety a bit. We shower him with praise when he does his homework, I give him backrubs to help him wake up in the morning (and finish off those dreams so we don't have another Tazmanian Devil experience), we've taken to turning off the TV at opportune moments and intentionally spending quality time with him (and Sony) doing puzzles, playing games and the like. It's almost always a delicate, walking on eggshells balance with the Minkster...but the week seems to have gone along without too much drama.
The boxes are beginning to call out to me. They are feeling empty and untended. I best be filling them with treasured possessions now. Or, at least, I should call the doctor and ask for an anti-hallucinogenic.
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