Catch and Release

Leaving is a part of my life. We only live places for a couple of years, so it seems I am always dealing with the complex emotions of leaving a place I have made my home. I'm usually excited to move on to the new place, so I always think I am ready and that it won't be that big of a deal. After all I've done it many, many times.

So I was surprised this week when it finally came time to leave Las Vegas, my home for the past three years, that I found it wrenching. I know we need to go, it's time to go, and I was motivated to do all the work of moving in preparation for the day. But when it came down to it, it was still a bit difficult to let it all stay behind me.

Mostly it's the people I don't want to leave, that's what brings tears to my eyes when we drive out of town, but it's also the life. I built a life there--created normalcy for myself, worked out how to live in Las Vegas of all places. Now I'm on a long trip across the country to show up on a doorstep of a house I've never seen, and start all over. I'll have to make thousands of decisions ranging from where to place the dog dishes to choosing the best way to get across the city--again. Right now, in a Best Western somewhere near Reno, it seems a monumental task.

I don't think it's getting easier, but it's just what I do, I don't know any different anymore. I somehow know how to attach and release myself from places, things and people. I'm not sure what that says about me--but I think it's like catch and release fishing. It's not really about taking home a fish, it's about the experience. You have this great time, and you catch a beautiful fish, but you only get to hold it long enough to unhook it and maybe get a picture before you release it on its way. You only live it once. I think it keeps me from hanging onto people, places and things too tightly. Shouldn't I hang on to people? Not really, I've found that the people I connect with either stay with me no matter how far away I go, or they easily pick up with me when we are back together.

Since leaving Vegas, I spent a few days at home, with my parents in my hometown, another place I am always driving away from. Leaving there is always difficult as well, no matter how excited I am to be on a new adventure. It's still home, and everything just feels as it should. The weather is as it should be, the air smells right, and the sun sets on the correct side of the damn ocean. Who goes to the beach all day and then looks over the land to watch the sunset? After a few days in Central California I start to feel myself naturally fitting back in, in spite of all the changing I've done in all the places I've lived. So I'm never surprised to feel the tears when I drive away from my parents standing out on the road waving, as they were this morning. It always hurts a bit.

We're always leaving, we never really stay. It's a great adventure, but I'm beginning to wonder if we'll ever be comfortable staying anywhere--what happens when we have to commit to a place for good? Will we ever have to? I've so enjoyed building our many homes and making our many friends, and I think it's been worth the leaving--but the leaving is still hard.

Regardless, here I go again--I think I'll try to catch the most beautiful fish yet.