The Open Road

The neighbors moved the other day. Last Sunday my daughter and I watched them pull away in their U-Haul. It’s not like we even knew them, we didn’t. The lived in the next complex and other than seeing their stuff sitting in the grass waiting to be loaded into the back end of the truck we weren’t aware of their existence.

As they drove past us sitting on our little deck enjoying the weather I felt a longing in my chest. A longing to be in their shoes. Almost a need to be on that open road.

I looked at my daughter and she said she felt the same. Not that the idea of packing up every last scrap is enticing, it isn’t, but getting those boxes and bags into the back of a U-Haul and setting off on an adventure is very damn enticing.

It is because we’ve moved around a lot. Not as much as military families but a lot more than most people we know. There are folks who have never ever lived anywhere but in one town. Some in one house. This boggles our collective minds.

By the time I started kindergarten I had moved four times. By the time I started third grade we had moved twice more. When I graduated from high school there were six more moves to add. And we won’t even talk about after I was older. And why did we move so much you might ask. We might ask the same thing and I could probably tell you but it would take some extensive counseling and I just don’t want to go there right now. The thing is, even after I had my kids we (or I should admit that I) kept moving and now my daughter loves it as much as I do.

We will really try to stay put until her boys graduate from high school. That’s in three more years. But we are already talking about saving moving money and where we want to go. We may not go together, but we will each find our open road and embrace the thrill of moving on.

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