The Freedom Song of the Jigsaw Girl

It's been nearly a week since my last day at my old firm and it is truly remarkable how light I feel, even with the stress of moving looming large. Somehow I feel more settled in my skin and more sure of my abilities. I've had some brain weasels as I pack (mostly that I'm not moving fast enough, which is ridiculous because I'm absolutely on the path to being fully packed well before next Thursday which is when the movers will be here to load the Uhaul I've reserved). But mostly what I've been feeling is contentment and joy. I'm a little sad to say goodbye to this apartment as I've truly loved living here. It's a warm and comfortable space with great energy. But I'm passing that on to the next tenant, which is a happy-making feeling as well.

It seems fitting to be moving during this season of transitions. But it seems even more fitting that my final week at work and this first week of packing coincide with another monumental, but much more devastating change in my life. Eight years ago today, we laid my father's ashes to rest in the Veteran's Cemetary--a bit more than a week after his passing. This is the first year that the anniversary didn't hit me like a sledgehammer. The grief is still there, as it always will be, but the load is lighter this year.

As I packed and did laundry in preparation for more packing, I found myself thinking of cycles and change and how it's all just part of the rhythm of life. Sometimes the changes are out of our hands, and sometimes we initiate them ourselves. The outcomes of both kinds of change can be good and bad. There were good things in those final weeks with my dad, and there are hard things with leaving a job I've had for five years and packing up an apartment that I've lived in for seven. And I once find myself at the end of a chapter of my life-long adventures, but this time I feel ready to face the next chapter with open arms and a lighter heart.

One of my friends is going through a devastating loss right now and she has been sharing updates via Facebook to keep her wider support network in the know. She is grieving the loss of her boyfriend to a mountain climbing accident and while I cannot be out west to support her and wrap her in hugs, I have certainly done my best to support her virtually with words and jedi hugs. In one post I told her how much I admired her, and how amazed I was by her strength, and also gave her kudos for rocking the self-care (including letting herself be emotional and grieving). What she said in response floored me and made me all kinds of misty eyed.

I learn this from you. I've been meaning to write to you and tell you that I"m so thankful you came into my life and made me into a better emotional being by your example. I love you

I honestly cannot think of higher praise than that. It is incredibly hard for me to accept such compliments as I do not really feel that I am all that special. I am posting it here largely so that on bad days I have an easily found reminder that I have made a difference in this world.