Monday, 19 April 2010

Lightbulbs made of sand.

The ball is rolling, quickly, swiftly. Downhill. Picking up speed and snowballing into life on the west coast. I have called the movers this morning, while still in my robe, holding my coffee and pacing back and forth looking for the sweet spot that would enable me to talk without hearing the echo of my own voice back to me. They will return the call within a couple of days with a date for me to mark on the calendar to be at the new house with my checklists in hand so I can ensure delivery of our things. My music. My violin. A full ninety percent of Ben's gear. The children's toys and books and bedrooms and the big green comfy couch I can fall asleep on far easier than I ever expected. The big wooden desk that Jacob anchored himself behind and the pictures. All of the pictures. I have them here on DVDs but it isn't the same.

For those of you playing the rousing game of Where's Bridget? using my tweets, be brave, you have to apply to see them now. Hey, if I can be brave enough to post what I'm doing then you can come right up and say hello. It isn't nice to be stalked and the boys will not play that game. Open books all around and we will get along just fine. Okay?

Late last night Ben and I decided yesterday was the best day ever and he said that he was so happy we were finally here with him. That comment, spoken out of the blue served to melt about a thousand of the broken shards of my heart back together again. It was one of the sweetest things I have ever heard, which is good because he has said it before but last night he just blurted it out and it took on fresh meaning in the dark as we lay in the clouds of white cotton overlooking the harbor with all of the twinkling lights of returning sailboats and people spending the currency of their own evenings.

There will be more days like yesterday. So many more. I'm so happy here. It's like a giant weight has been lifted. The momentary frustration of a trip to the beach cut short was just that. I'm not mad. I just suddenly realized I'm not going anywhere. I'm home. And the beach is RIGHT HERE. I don't have to leave it.

Not anymore.