I reluctantly left Santa Cruz this morning to return to Walnut Creek. A big day was ahead of me, because my dad is in the process of moving from a rented bedroom with a friend into his own apartment- his first time living alone in 6 years.
As exciting as it is to start over in a new place, there is a lot of dread that goes along with it. Few things are more stressful than moving, and it becomes even more of a stress if you’re not organized. My dad, like a lot of dads, isn’t super organized.
The last move was pretty intense- my dad had to whittle down his life in a three-story, four-bedroom house into one bedroom. Whittling proved to be too challenging, so a lot ended up in storage. For this move, I’m determined to put everything in its place, and get rid of the stacks of excess paper, old clothes that never get worn, and the dank storage shed in Martinez. To really move in, you have to move on and let go of things.
For a half a day of work, I think we accomplished a lot. I couldn’t identify if I was impressed that all the receipts for the rental truck from the last move turned up, or that much more hellbent on trashing anything that hadn’t seen daylight since the new millennium. There is something so cathartic about trashing old files, especially if the information that was once so valuable is now obsolete.
We have a lot of work ahead of us, particularly with the kitchen, which is as bare as Mother Hubbard’s. The only things in the refrigerator are beverages!
One of the things I love the most about my father is his passion for reading. We have barely started, and the large bookshelf is already packed full. I’m sure each and every book will have a home before we even set up a place for my dad to sleep.
Personally, I would have filled the fridge first.