It's a funny title for a first post on a brand new blog.

Today, I finished moving out of the old house.  Today, we officially no longer have a family home where all of our things are intermingled.  The home our kids have known for the last three years is no longer ours.

My life is now packed in boxes and bags, bins and loose memories, stacked in my Mom's garage.  We have what we need and everything else will wait until that someday when a whole new life begins, me and my two towheaded little boys in our own place.  Imagining it doesn't come easily to me right now.  

The story here is long and twisted, and sometimes I still can't believe it.  It will come in time, I know, the words pouring from my fingers with fire behind them.

The weather today was typical Washington.  I unloaded a truck in the rain, then loaded again in warm sunshine.  I sat on the back of the truck, staring into a garage full of my things, thinking about how my feelings were the same way.

I spent more time with E the last few days than I have in the last few months combined.  We are no longer a unit, but dividing 14 years worth of belongings and clearing out a house in only a few days requires close contact.  Mostly I just needed to push to get it done, but there were stolen moments of looking around and contemplating the past and the future.

That part of my life is over.


A new chapter begins.