Déménager: to move

I hate moving. Yes, I know that this is a very grade nine way of starting my first entry, but that does not make it any less true. It is the most rigorous and self bearing exercise I have undergone in quite some time. Take everything that has surrounded you, defined you and made you who you are for the last seven years and strip it from your physical surroundings. It is on reflection an exercise I should have done more frequently in Kingston for it did give me an appreciation for how much stuff I had and for how much I was part of a community in Kingston regardless of how jilted I felt every time I had to change schools. 

               This is what I have learned from moving. Firstly, I will always from this point on hire packers. This was the best decision we made. They were efficient and no nonsense. The things I would have cried over and thought about they packed away with care and speed. Both of these are much needed as our valuables and sentimental pieces rumble down the highway to Edmonton. Secondly, I have learned that when under extreme stress my emotions can basically shut down. No tears were shed and no major breakdowns occurred while I knew my list of packing “to do’s” was endless. This aided me in getting through most of my goodbyes without tears but also prevent a true show of emotion to those that I cared about so much in Kingston. This leads to my third point, which is how much I have realized over the past week how blessed my life has been in Kingston. The friends, colleagues and students who have surrounded me have been so supportive that I cannot begin to thank them and I am in some ways glad that I have only realized it now or I would have been an emotional mess for my last days in that welcoming city.

               With the help of many we were able to pack up our lives and send a quarter of our stuff to Edmonton, pack a sixth of our stuff for France and gave away the rest. Many thanks go out to our friends Chris and Jim, who not only put us up for our last night in Kingston with a miraculous meal (which I couldn’t fully enjoy because of nerves), but they also took all of our food and will make sure that it is used. It is amazing how much can fit in a 7’ by 5’ galley kitchen if you are organized. Too bad I wasn’t equally as organized at eating it all in two weeks. Another thing that got us through was the lending of a station wagon by Sean and Ellen. Without this we wouldn’t have been able to ship off preserves, bookshelves and various boxes to all of you whom so graciously accepted our stuff and promised to use it. (It is okay if you end up chucking it, I understand, just don’t tell me.) Ellen also helped me cope with my last day at school and many various errands by unknowingly leaving her Glee CD in the car. The soundtrack helped me through all of the time I thought I would kill Keith or break down and cry. The stress of this move has made me make one final resolution. Once I am teaching again, I plan to only move in July and August. Yes, Carolyn needs to stay in control.

               To tell you the truth the reality of moving to France is still just sinking in. The reality of leaving only actually occurred as Keith and I stood in our empty and echo filled apartment with the lights off watching the Wolfe Island Ferry progressing to Marysville. It was only then that the gravity of leaving our home, which had fostered our marriage for the past seven years, truly hit home. 

Excitement clicks in and out about the move. In the Montreal airport, I was finally able to start Julie Child’s My Life in France. Cliché perhaps, but so far it has been a jubilant read about the possibilities that lie ahead. The travelling so far has seemed more like a vacation than a move, but after a good movie and 50 cl or so of wine on the plane, I finally let myself exalt in the fact that we are actually moving to France. A little trip to the toilette and a dance in the mirror has confirmed that I am on my way to a new adventure with my love by my side. 

I am emotionally drained and yet recharged by the unknown future ahead. Who would think that the organized school teacher would rejoice in such chaos and uncertainty?

“Travel, we agreed, was a litmus test: if we could make the best of the chaos and serendipity that we’d inevitably meet in transit, then we’d surely be able to sail through the rest of life together just fine. So far, we’d done pretty well.”  Julia Child