The moving letter
Fact: My son turned 10.
Fact: We had to move. Again.
Fact: Fourth time in four years.
Statistical probability of another move within 12 months: Hopefully 0.
The landlords told us they wouldn't be renewing our lease and would be letting it slip month-to-month in order to get us out by the summer. We decided to move fast to get a winter deal so Shelby saw a house, loved it and applied for it in the car outside. (I moved in blindly…)
Time given to pack up a life: 20 days.
Time Shelby spent in New York: 14 days (preplanned brunch)
Number of boxes packed during those 14 days: Fewer than anticipated
Number of times I googled "tenant rights Seattle": 37
It's said moving is one of life's major stressors. What about moving four times? What about moving four times with a child? What about moving four times with a child while your partner is in New York?
Weather report: Seattle, damp, cold, beautiful at night.
Mental state: Remarkably resilient.
Things I meant to write about turning 10:
What a decade of parenting looks like to me
How smart and kind he is
His obsession with pushups
The ways he has grown and changed me
Things I actually wrote:
Change of address forms
Claude prompts about security deposits
Rental application
Boxes labeled "FRAGILE"
But the new place: Better.
Plot twist: Sometimes better finds you despite circumstances.
Secondary plot twist: Having a basement rules.
Reminder: Own less things.
Second reminder: Write something about Gaël turning 10.
Third reminder: It's okay that you didn't.
Fourth reminder: The statute of limitations on birthday letters is infinite.
Things that moved with us:
Board games
My rainbow colored hammock
That one box we never unpacked (electronics
Our ability to start over
The hope that this time it's for a while
Things that didn't:
The lack of insulation
My faith in Seattle landlords
The idea that stability requires stillness
Current status:
Location: New house
Boxes unpacked: Some
Birthday letter: Pending
Son: Growing
Heart: Full
Lease: Signed
Future: Unwritten
Note to self: Sometimes the best stories are the ones we live instead of write.
Note to Gael: you’ll get that letter you deserve.
Note to Seattle landlords: [REDACTED]
Cowabunga dude,
DJ
P.S. The new place really is the best one yet, come see it if you can