As my eyes gaze across the paper, I can hardly believe it's finally done with. "Congratulations! This letter is to inform you of your promotion...." And all I can think is, it's about damn time. I thought I would be exited. But truly it is a feeling of relief. To understand my anxiety of the situation, I haven't known, not for sure, for quite a while. It's been far longer than the three weeks my wife and I have spent apart, her in Bellingham, myself in Wenatchee.
We constructed plans, acquired an apartment, she enrolled at university, we rented a truck and we moved all of our belongings across the State all with this uncertainty of whether or not I would actually be gainfully employed on the other end. But I finally know. After months of waiting, I know. I'm moving to Bellingham, WOOT! Every town has its ups and downs. I've been here 13 years now. I have to say, I will miss it, miss my friends and my family, but I'm so glad to finally get out of this hole.
Last weekend a sadness over took me as I walked through my parents' house, my mom's house, the house I grew up in. It was empty save a few boxes and the piano that is staying to be enjoyed by the new owners. See I'm not the only one that's moving. Last fall my father divorced my mother. It was very unexpected. And though my dad has moved on, bought a new house, and is working on obtaining his next wife, seeing my mom pack everything up and sign over ownership of our home to some stranger had more of an effect on me than I had predicted. She's in Portland now and doing well and I am happy for her.
This week everything's been yellow. I mean that quite literally. Wildfires in southern British Columbia have flooded this valley with massive amounts of smoke, creating an ominous gel that filters the sunlight casting amber shadows and giving everything a sickening look to it, compounded with my mood. I'm ready to get out of here. My last day is Tuesday. And I will be more than happy to go. There's a song that I can't seem to get this out of my head, and perhaps it will fade as time goes on. Can't there be some happiness for me? Not in Wenatchee.