Sometimes the sadness is palpable. I’m driving in my car, my beautiful, I-love-it-so-deeply car, and the sadness thrums like the bass line in a Billie Eilish song. I wish I didn’t get sad, I wish I could ‘fix’ it, but the truth is that after 43 years, I know that the sadness comes and it lingers and then it goes. And it’s just a waiting game.

Last fall was a whirlwind of quick decisions and even quicker action. We decided to adopt Eli, and then we decided we liked it in State College better than Downingtown, and then we decided to sell our house and then we sold it and moved more than half our belongings into storage and then we went to France because isn’t that what you do?

It’s hard to remember fully what the last four months of 2022 were. They were hectic and quick and hard and exhausting and rewarding and …. so, so fast. One moment we were shuffling through paint swatches to paint the walls and the next we were on our hands and knees with Magic Erasers, cleaning the base boards of all the stairwells in anticipation of showings. Suddenly our home of seven years wasn’t our home anymore. All the routines, all the comforts we slowly built disintegrated as we took down pictures and packed boxes full of kitchen equipment and office supplies and books. We wedged things into our tiny Bellefonte home, hoping that we could get a new house built soon. Then we picked a lot to build and made deposits and picked carpets and flooring and light fixtures and where all the electric outlets would go. We picked more things than I’d ever thought about in a house. We signed piles of papers and wrote the biggest check I’ve ever written. Then we packed up our truck, scheduled walks for Eli, and got on a transatlantic flight. We rode trains and hiked through mountains to see glaciers and ate indulgent French food.

And then we came home. And picked up a (much) larger Eli and trudged back to our tiny, stuffed home in Bellefonte, longing for our bed and our couch and our TV and our coffeeshop. And then, before we even got bored with this little moment of mundane-ness, we got *back* in the car and journeyed south again, for MRIs and medicine and doctors appointments, and Eli’s vet appointment to get neutered. Because in all the back and forth and packing and picking and planning and packing … we hadn’t gotten a new vet.

Tomorrow we drive again. For more meds. For Eli follow-ups. I’m not surprised I’m sad. I’m surprised I’m not more sick.

xox, g