moving

I have PCS papers. We're moving to Detroit, Michigan, the first week in May. Farewell, Iowa! I guess I'll have to change the name of this blog.

Rents in Michigan are twice what they are here, so Mr. Brown keeps trying to prepare himself and Rose Pink for the idea that we'll be living somewhere less spacious than our townhouse. "We'll probably be in a smaller place," he'll say. Rose Pink, without fail, always counters, "Or bigger! It could be bigger, or smaller, we don't know!"

It started way back in December, when I was offered another job with the command if I would move in March. I accepted, but then changed my mind and decided to stay in my current job and go ahead and move. They put me on the calendar for July, and we were waiting for official papers before announcing anything. Then when I came back from the Leavenworth trip, I had a really bad week with my boss, and Mr. Brown told me that we should just go ahead and move in order to get away from her. (She's retiring and not moving to Detroit.) So I asked for my orders to be moved up to the beginning of May, and that was approved two weeks ago. I got my paperwork yesterday.

I thought it would be good to have a short time before I moved - less time to mope, less time to be uncomfortable around people, less time to answer for the ka-jillionth time the same questions about whether or not we're excited and how much time left. I think it was the right choice. I didn't want to tell anyone at all at church, but Mr. Brown didn't let me make that decision. It's been so hard, this whole upset and the mixed feelings of excitement and loss, that I didn't really want to talk about it with anyone, and I didn't want people looking at it or prodding those feelings.

Mr. Brown told one person the day the May move date was approved, and when we got to church on Sunday it seemed that most of the people we talked to there already knew. Word gets around, I guess. It was such a relief to me not to have to tell anyone, and Mr. Brown cleverly deduced that I didn't want to see the disappointed look on others' faces when we gave them our news. He very thoughtfully made sure to tell everyone that might possibly need to know, so that it wouldn't have to be me breaking it initially. My husband is so kind.

In a lot of ways it seems an appropriate time to move. I was just telling Mr. Brown that it seemed like our group of townhouses is filled with ghosts. He quoted Counting Crows at me, "Memories are just films about ghosts" but it's true, when I look around all I see are the people who used to live here. Either the townhomes are empty now or they have grownups in them with no kids and so we never see them. There's a particular push/riding toy that has been handed around from family to family and has actually been part of this group of townhomes for longer than we've lived here. I wonder if the people who first bought it realized that it would stay here for so long. And at this point, nobody else realizes that it's been around here so long, except maybe the landlords.

We are excited and interested to move to a new city and experience new things, a different ward, a different culture and different learning opportunities. But Davenport is a good place to live and we do like this city and will miss it very, very much. We'll be gone the next two weeks. I have a training class in Detroit, and then Mr. Brown and the kids are coming to join me for a few days to look for a place to live. Sigh. Here we go, another adventure!