The children have moved out.
More accurately, our friend Rebecca is hosting them for the night. It's a very gracious gift, to get these two out of the house while their parents are in the last throes of evacuating the house. They will be spared the chaos of vacuuming at 3 o'clock in the morning, of panicking over how to pay for the rubbish haulers to come back and take another truckload of "household waste." Plus, she's given them ice cream! I think they are planning on splitting that pint 50/50... I bet very little sleeping gets accomplished at her house, come to think of it. But it will be more fun than what's going on at this house. Oh, yes.
The other way this is like an evacuation is we didn't have a family "goodbye" ritual to the house. We wanted to, but the effort involved in getting to this stage has worn everyone down. A year ago, I was newly awakened to the wisdom of saying goodbye to the things we excuse from our lives. Nicholas told me he hugged a wall in his room "goodbye." I wonder why I feel so little need to orchestrate a goodbye? Perhaps I really am zombified.
I like what I'm learning about "help." I asked for help, and I received help. I recall my Dad built up a network of friends pretty quickly after moving 2500 miles from South Bend Indiana to Costa Mesa California 45 years ago. He found reliable people, other yong families, who would go on overnight trips with us, and share babysitting, and I realize now that he could call on them for "rescue," and they could call on him, too. Rebecca saved the kids tonight. We have other friends to stay with until we head up for Easter with my Mom, and then, well, we'll see. Either we'll have taken more steps towards owning that house, or we'll go back to renting while I farm my networks for the next opportunity.
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