We were moving across town and were selling our smaller place furnished, deciding we’d move the few things we were keeping ourselves. We both had good intentions, but as time wore on with all the packing and unpacking, loading the car and making quick runs back and forth, I found it was all heading south by the third day.
By the fourth day, I was donating, tossing, or leaving behind items I thought I would never part with. All that attachment, especially to the heavier pieces (not worth hiring a mover for) suddenly seemed not worth the effort. Did I really need this? Was it worth lugging several miles? Would it fit in our new place? What did I ever see in that piece in the first place? What was I thinking keeping it all these years?
I never thought I was capable of being so ruthless, but after several days and nights of sore muscles and lack of sleep, I was bordering on the edge. It was sort of like going through your closet and deciding on the keep and the donate piles. After several hours that emotional attachment started to wear thin. All I kept envisioning was the time and effort involved in lugging all that stuff in and out of our SUV.
Normally I was a very easy-going individual, but several days into the big move, I was transformed into Sybil with multiple personalities. Happy, then depressed one minute and near hysteria the next. I wanted all this done. I wasn’t writing and was going toward the dark side from withdrawal. My schedule was no more. I was eating fast food from the drive-thru on the fly. Breakfast, lunch and dinner went by the wayside. Answering emails and twitter went down the toilet as well.
Where did I leave the normally pleasant, cheerful me? Was it in the keep or donate pile? Finally, on the last day for making final decisions about shutting the door one last time on the old and embracing the new, I walked into my old bedroom and there squeezed into the corner sat my desk, my puzzle desk. Yes, you guessed it. That was the desk where I wrote my first book, The Puzzle.
It was a desk with secret compartments. I thought I’d found them all, but I always found another when I swore there were no more to be discovered. Just like in my mystery, The Puzzle, another secret was revealed. It was where I sat hour after hour happy, sad, frustrated, brain blocked, pounding out clues and dialogue. I stood there just staring at it, but then decided since I moved onto other mysteries and embraced new horizons, that maybe my desk should, too. Why not let someone else discover and unlock all its secrets waiting to be revealed? Besides, it was very, very heavy…
…It was day number eleven of the big move and the last of what we were taking with us was finally in the new house. We were on our way back from the store, when we decided to stop at the old place for one last look. I walked in and stopped dead in my tracks. Staring at me was The Puzzle desk. I looked at my husband and sighed.
“Can we make one more trip?”
Chase your dreams and remember, everyday is a blessing.