FOUR WEEKS, AND YES, I AM COUNTING SLOWLY

Four weeks from today, we will have moved Carly to a place of her own.  She is 21 1/2 years old.  She has a good paying job to look forward to, a great apartment and roommate.  Ray was 19 when he moved out of the townhouse he lived in with his mom.  He moved into an apartment with two roommates and had a good paying job.  I  moved out when I was 20.  I moved into my sister and her husband's townhouse (I lived in the finished basement).  I had a good paying job, also.  So Carly leaving at such a young age so as not to have to fight the horrific Northern Virginia traffic wasting time and a lot of her newly earned money on gas and wear and tear on the car makes perfect sense.  And the best reason to be on her own I really do realize is so she may continue the independence she started and grew to know and love while in graduate school last year (and not have her mom asking her a million and one questions about her day and plans for the next day haha).  She is young, but this is how things should go.  Right?  This is how things went for me and Ray.  It felt great to move out and live on our own.  It was exciting and fun, although there was anxiety, too.  I never thought once about moving back with my parents.  After a year, I moved out of my sister's house and north to share an apartment with my previous college roommate.  I don't think Carly thinks she would ever want to or need to move back here.  She is very fortunate in today's time that she can be on her own and not living with her parents.  I guess my anxiety is that this house won't be here for her if she has to move back home.   Or it is mother's guilt.  That's truly what it comes down to.  She knows Ray and I will be here for her, and she knows that when we are in Panama we will also be available to her and able to guide her every step of the way.  We have told her to keep the lines of communication open always.  And if she is ever in need, we are the first people she knows to call out to (no matter where we are).

Carly is going through all of her things saving and trashing like I posted not too long ago.  Last night her Barbies (and Kens and Skippers) were lined up on the family room floor. They were scaring her for some reason.  The figures just looked odd to her.  They just kept looking up at her.  They were very easy to give up!  I went through a box that held five diaries (or more), boxes that had old prom flowers in them, love notes and notes passed to me while sitting in class from friends, old eyeglasses and hearing aids and more crazily hoarded stuff!  Most was thrown away (I was in that throw away kind of mood).  The diaries I will read over again perhaps just for kicks.  After flipping through just a few pages, I read that I had a high fever of 98.7 on one page, and I hated my sister on the next.  This will all make for great stories for my patients while I am scaling and polishing their teeth (I have a captive audience!).  The one diary specifically states that I am to "save this book to read to my children once they are old enough to understand it!!!"  And that, after 35 years is what I have done (I knew there was a reason why all that junk was still in my basement!).  I will share in the laughs with Ray and Carly, I will let them laugh at me, too, over these next four weeks while we delve into not only my memories from 35 years ago but also into Carly's memories from the last 21 1/2.  There are so many memories we share as well. This is what makes moving and retiring to Panama in an odd way special to me.  We are all accomplishing the task of "getting rid of our stuff", as overwhelming as it seems, alongside each other and enjoying each other all the way.  (Oh yes, Ray also has had a few things to throw away.  Don't ever let him say differently.)