…absence makes the heart grow fonder. It’s also been proven that it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. In addition, you should never look a gift horse in the mouth. But, all joking aside, they also say that you don’t truly appreciate something until it’s gone.
I’ve moved a LOT in my lifetime. Family friends jokingly refer to us as the “nomadic Haddock family”. And if they don’t, they should. Here’s the run down, even though I’m sure you couldn’t care less right now. Trust me, I’m building to something.
Move #1 – From Casper, WY to Gillette, WY (no, they don’t make the razors there) when I was a wee lass.
Move #2 – From Gillette, WY to Grand Junction, CO when I was in 4th or 5th grade.
Move #3 – From Grand Junction, CO to Gillette, WY 14 months after we moved to GJ
Move #4 – From Gillette, WY to Anchorage, AK when I was in 8th grade
Move #5 – From Anchorage, AK to Gillette, WY after I graduated from high school
Move #6 – While I was in college, my family moved from Gillette, WY back to Anchorage, AK. Needless to say, I had a hard time figuring out where the spoons were that Christmas break.
Move #7 – After I graduated and stayed put in CA, my family moved from Anchorage, AK to Katy, TX
Move #8 – When my Grandma passed on, mi familia moved from Katy, TX to Morgantown, WV. They lost my sister, Lindsay in that move – she remained in TX.
So…after all was said and done, I have 2 sisters in as many states and have experienced my fair share pen pals, first days at new schools, and can navigate time zones with ease. Plus, as an added bonus, I learned that even if you DO move back to a state and the friends you left before, life still won’t be the same. People move on, stay put but everybody changes to some extent throughout the years.
It is with this noted and profound experiencial evidence under my belt that I would like to tell you the following: moving sucks.
You can imagine my surprise, then, when I willingly subjected myself to the changes of a move 2 years ago August. I think it’s especially important to note that I moved WHEN NO ONE MADE ME.
When I first got out here to Colorado, I was a wee bit busy dealing with living on my own, establishing a new church, group of friends, navigating the 8,000 blizzards that Jack Frost threw my way, buying a new car after my first was totaled, getting my car broken into, etc. It was a tramatic, but rewarding experience, to say the least. There were ups, there were downs. I missed my friends. I missed my family to the extent that I seriously considered moving home. I missed my church. I missed knowing the street names and the fastest route to get to my end destination. I missed my old apartment. These were mostly familiar feelings to me, but there was ONE feeling that I’d never had before.
I missed my grocery store.
I know it sounds crazy. But before I moved to CA and lived in the Pink Palace with my roommate, Holly, I had never before experienced Trader Joe’s. On the outside, it’s like one of those clown cars – you never know what surprises it will hold.
I could go into Trader Joe’s as a burn-the-toast, ruin-boiled-water kind of girl and come out a gourmet chef. They made it so easy with their frozen easy to re-create meals, their name brand juice, their pre-made marinated meats, their dried fruit. And don’t even get me started on the flower selection. *sniff
For those of you that have never been inside a Trader Joe’s, I feel that there should be a support group for you. For those of you that HAVE and go on a regular basis, count your blessings. For those of you that used to be able to go that now can’t and go back to visit – please let me know. I’ll do anything to be a part of the magic again.
I’ll leave you with this thought – as it relates to grocery stores, is it REALLY better to have loved and lost? I ask you.