Moving Day. (aka "oooOOOooo... eeeeeee")

Don't worry. My address isn't changing any time soon. Today was moving day for my friend Libby--the same person whose almost-last-night in town was celebrated on Martini Monday.

I spent the first half of today helping her get through the movers coming in and then clearing out some of the trash and all that last-day-in-the-apartment stuff. We probably spent about 6 hours together, including a trip to Goodwill and a stop for Snack Wraps at McDonald's. And then we said our good-byes so that she could finish packing her clothes and get ready to fly out to California this evening. 

It was surreal being on the non-moving side of Libby's move. I've been the one making the big moves most of my adult life. After college I spent a year teaching in Paris, and at the end of that time I had to leave everyone I had met on the far side of the Atlantic. After Grad School (in Ohio), I was the first of my group to leave town. After 11 years in Baltimore, I packed up to move back to the Midwest. Each time I was the one with all of the boxes who was saying good-bye to all that was familiar. Today was the first time I've been watching someone else go through it. 

It's hard for me to feel too sad watching Libby leave. I'm going to miss her a lot, but I know that she's got a huge new adventure ahead of her. After all, moving is just as much about finding new things ahead as it is about leaving things behind. Libby will be starting a whole new life--in a new town, with new possibilities. I've had the chance to do that before and I know that it's terrifying and exhilarating--sometimes both at once, and sometimes separately (unfortunately "terrifying" seems to hover around in the air at bedtime)--but also something that leads to growth and massive amounts of self-knowledge.

You see, it seems more than ever that these days distance isn't really relevant to a friendship--there are people I live a mile from whom I see less than people who are halfway across the country. I have always been a firm believer in phonecalls and letters (and, more recently, emails) as a way to keep in touch. And, above all, I know that the people who are meant to stay in your life do just that.

So it was with excitement mixed with wistfulness--and maybe a little faint background wanderlust--that I waved good-bye to Libby as I drove away today. Here's hoping she and her boxes meet up again soon. (I know... you were expecting me to say something about being sure we'd see each other again. But since that's a given, I figured it wasn't worth mentioning.)