In case you haven't heard, October was a doosey. Since my last post, five weeks ago on this wonder of cyberspace called Blogger, I've gotten married, travelled to Japan, quit my current job of fourteen years, and accepted a new job that requires a 2000 plus mile move west to Seattle leaving my new wife behind to sell the condo.
Since returning home from Japan, I've been a scheduling fool. If you are in this state, you've probably heard from me about getting togehter 'One last time.' While a small handful of friends couldn't be squeezed in, I did manage to work up a hectic schedule that saw me attending eleven lunches, twelve dinners, one family going away party, and a breakfast in two weeks. This left me little time to fix up the place for sale or consider what to pack.
Sounds like I'm complaining or that I prefer house work over friends. With the staggering amount of good news in October, I'm just trying to keep a level head and see the potential good alongside the potential bad (as part of my Velvet Murphy approach to life.) So when a friend talks about how awesome the new gig will be, I mention the political quality surrounding the creation of this position. When someone tells me Seattle is awesome, I mention that I'm leaving thirty-seven years of relationships and experiences behind.
Johnny D. is the kind of man guys aspire to be; Easy going, intelligent, funny, and willing to accept a man crush from me. He credits me with saving his kid from certain parking lot death even though I was simply part of the search team, not the hero. John is also part of my poker crew made up of current and ex music industry fellas. We've met at my place a dozen times in the last couple years to experience a constant ebb and flow of nickels and dimes while chatting away like school girls.
At the last poker night ever, this last Friday, John exercised one of his other admirable qualities: Honesty. During our extended goodbyes in the parking lot around one am, there was a lull. John said "Moving is something you're supposed to do when you're twenty. I figured, at our age, we're all here. We're settled. And we'd be growing old and playing poker together." While I'm most certainly paraphrasing, the gist of that statement resonates with me. It struck to the core of my hesitation.
I'm not dying and I'll be back as much as humanly / financially possible. But there is no kidding myself. Relationships will fizzle, become awkward, and perhaps die. I've thrown myself into this situation not fully comprehending the full extent of the consequences. The thought of a single relationship perishing has me second guessing this entire thing.
Like a child who won't look at you when you leave, as if gone unseen you've never left, I'm finding it hard to finish typing this post. If I wrap it up, and make my final poignant point I may crumble teary eyed on the bed. So let's just say, to all of you that I'm troubling with a two-thousand mile gap, you will be missed and the rumored fizzly, awkward, death of our friendship has been greatly exaggerated.
2 comments:
Our friendship will never die. After all, I will need a couch to crash on when I come to huff the Seattle wool fumes I've dreamed about for years.
Such is the beauty of the internet... makes that 2000 miles seem a lot closer. I can relate, my friend. And I cannot tell a lie, six years after moving across the country, I still miss people and other indigenous thangs from home. But I've built a 2nd home that I would miss just as much were I to move back to the Midwest. Enjoy the ride... it's a life changer (in a good way!)
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