t can have as well. It's still kind of early in the morning for deep thoughts, though, so Laura at least will be relieved to know I'm not going to write an in-depth treatise on anything right now. This is just some pondering, wandering, wondering thoughts and tiny epiphanies about Life.
I've been packing up and moving from Jefferson Street, where, once again, I have spent a good year with wonderful people. My belongings are in cardboard and in plastic organizers, my clothing is all in a couple of baskets, and I'm in that place where there's not really a place I can call home.
In 16 days I will be marrying the man who is the kindest, funniest, most encouraging, smart and good-looking person I know. Marrying him. Sometimes this freaks me out, because this is the biggest and most permanent and responsible and forever and hard thing that I will ever commence. This is the biggest move. I have turned to him, and will never turn away. I am moving on to a different phase of life, and can never go back. I am not single. I do not belong to myself. I cannot 'do whatever I want with the future' like people have told me for years. I will spend the rest of my life getting closer to him, helping him do what he needs to, stepping in line with him, moving as he does.
And he with me. He tells me he has changed because of me. When you love someone, you do things differently, for bigger reasons, with more intention, for righter reasons, because being with them just makes you want to. What I want is to always be moving toward each other with the beauty of real grace, and with each other toward God, and with His help outward the rest of the world.
We are all in constant motion. We are all changing with the time, day by day, year by year, becoming more or less like Christ, learning more moves for this Living, broadening our characters and changing in preferences and expanding in thoughts and comprehension of the universe around us.
Moving. Moving on. Moving out. Yet we carry in our bodies and in our souls the all that has come before. I told Fraser I was excited about our new life together - it seems like it will be all new. He reminded me that it's not quite like Eden; we have histories already. And he wants not just the new of the two of us, but all of me that the last 30 years has built.
I must keep moving. I have things to do. Today I go to my job, and continue on the path I've been for a while. I order roses and go see about a marriage license and apply for another job, reaching forward to the new. Today I roll a song over and over in my head, and it colors my thoughts. Today I go to my old house and clear out more of the past, saying goodbye with boxes and cleaning rags and bleach and brooms. I spend time with my sisters, and we pull the past of our solid friendship into the now with our adult lives and point forward into the crazy good of the months ahead.