empty warehouse party

Here is the beginning of another beginning.

Friday it started, and it started way too early. Thursday night had melded into Friday morning with no break, just boxes in the kitchen and the last batch of cookies I ever made in that house, also the most perfect batch of cookies ever made by me.

It was light and then it was dark and then it was light and I had a headache and was cranky and it was not a good way to start a moving day.

The storage unit came thirty five minutes earlier than anticipated, at the ungodly hour of 7:25 am.
Kenyan was disappointed that it wasn’t metal and saucer-shaped, as we’d been referring to it as “the pod”

Jada was the only one not in school. We made a [last-ever] run to Home Depot to get some bug slaying magic potion.

I frantically called Kellie, who’d gotten less sleep than me, and heroes showed up to save the day.

It was long and it was hot. My body was confused. It should be night and I should be sleeping. Instead I am lifting couches and hauling boxes and standing in the storage pod from hell where it’s at least 115 degrees. My head was throbbing and I took frequent water breaks. I lifted, moved, rearranged, taped, wrapped in plastic, and hid in the shade.

The pod got fuller, but the house didn’t seem to get emptier. There were several unnecessary moments of panic, multiple times when I would have preferred to just set fire to all our possessions.

People worked magic. We rearranged, shoved, and stuffed.
Some people worked hard.
Some people hardly worked.

We allotted appropriate amounts of time for goofing off and tom foolery and those types of things.

The house magically emptied. The cavalry arrived, bringing ice, Gatorade, and morale.

Somehow, by the grace of God, everything in that house fit into the pod. It was impossible. So of course, it happened. That seems to be a theme recently.
There was much, much rejoicing.

I would like to say that there was rest after that, but that wasn’t even close.
The piano needed to go. My piano, my friend, the instrument where I started at six by playing a song with my knuckles on three black keys. Where I learned my first hymn. Where I learned an entire song through sheer determination to be as good as someone else. Where I went from being average to being good. Where I learned to love playing. I’ve never played better anywhere than on that piano. I played a few of my favorite songs on it, pretended to cry on Kenyan’s shoulder about it [much to the distress of the missionaries, who weren’t sure how to respond], and said goodbye. it’s now a little battered and bruised and sitting in another home where hopefully someone will love it.

I wish that after that emotional battle I was able to sleep. But adventure overrides rest, always.

We drove through downtown Fort Lauderdale one more time, down the infamous Las Olas boulevard.

We saw our dear friends, ones who we’ve never seen enough of, who we will always be wanting to see more of.

We went out on the water to watch the sunset. I can’t express enough how much I am going to miss Florida. The sun doesn’t set the same in any other place. The light reflecting off of the water, the way the sky turns soft and the air cools down. The way it’s always quieter, regardless of where you are. It’s taking a breath from the day before the excitement of night. Florida is beautiful.

There was joy and relaxation, something that has certainly been scarce these past few months.

We had a delicious barbecued dinner with the most mouth watering burger I’ve ever had in my life. Kids swung on the rope over the deep dark water. I wasn’t going to until my eight year old sister showed me up and I decided I need to man up and start conquering my fears. I went twice.

It was what I expected. Adults talking, kids screaming and laughing, and me [awkward phase of life still] falling asleep on the couch.

It was a beautiful ending to such a long day.

[Title from What Gets You Off by Jack's Mannequin]


  1. Thank you so much for posting this very entertaining and somewhat bittersweet account. I wish I could have been there to help you move and to enjoy that last batch of cookies. I will miss you all being in Florida, but am excited for your new adventure. We hope to see some or all of you soon!

  2. Oh, Brid, I sure love you! I'm so glad that you posted on the family blog finally! And I really love hearing your accounts of everything going on with you and your family. You have a great way with words (and photos). I hope I get to see you soon!

    P.S. You can bake for me anytime . . .

  3. Bridian, I'm so glad you have a blog so I can keep up with all of your family's new adventures. Y'all will be in our prayers! We love you guys tons.
    - Lindsey Potts