Mother’s Day.
Or should that be Mothers’ Day?
I love my mom to the moon and back. She played an incredible role in helping me become the man I am today. And now, as a father and husband, I have to give all of the appropriate credit to the woman who is my wife and the mother of my three kids.
I am who I am due to this incredible amalgamation (5 dollar word) of experiences. My mom got me from zero to manhood (boy, that sounds a little weird) and my wife is responsible for me going from Man (Level 1) to Man (Whatever the hell level I am at today).
We spent the day focused on preparing the house to go on the market, as that is the collective focus of the family. Baby wants a new house, baby gonna get a new house. I’m coming around. I haven’t hidden from the most beautiful person I have known in this lifetime how I feel about moving. I abhor it. I attended 7 different schools in 9 years as a kid, and that may have had an effect on me. I moved all the time as a college student and young person trying to figure everything out. The nomadic life is not for me.
So here we are. Gonna sell the house that I’ve (We’ve) lived in since 2001, and find our “forever home”. The place I’m likely going to die in, unless I can upload my consciousness and become a Von Neumann probe.
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I’m OK with it. Yeah, parts of the process suck the big suck. I’ll get over it. I must. There is no ‘Plan B’.
This is one of the times that I just repeat to myself over and over, “Everything is going to be fine”.
And it will.
I’ll have myself a little garden.
Peace, y’all.
