Lets go to Spain

Dear God, what have we done?

3 days and counting until the moving van arrives. The travel bags are generally packed. Our possessions which will be moved, whittled away to specialized tools and family photographs. There were last minute complications in receiving medications. Who’s going to buy the damn car? How can we leave our familiar community of loving friends to venture off to a land where we don’t speak the language. Are we no longer young and hip? 

How long has it been since I’ve been without a address? Ever? I am ever astounded and grateful of our privilege to afford a great adventure. To be secure financially and personally. They (those troublesome “THEY”) say, that one of the more stressful events in life is the process of moving. Moving ranks up there with divorce, death and birth. OOOOH, sounds like fun. 

Monday 12-12 Miami 

The move is done. Fini. The movers finished in 2.5 hours. Colombia John stuffed his van with last minute goodies and trash. BFF”s , so that I may always visit them on return trips home. I’ve carried some of those rocks for 30+ years. There was a final run to the Humane Society Thrift Shop. The last-minute cleansing and erasing of our life in Vero. I am often astounded of the lifestyle change we’ve instigated and wonder why I can’ be ecstatic. We have the willpower and desire. What can go wrong? Go away catastrophizing! Begone! 

Tammy’s husband, The Mayor attended our farewell breakfast at Bachi. An honor and a delight. It is because of The Mayor, that Tammy and I became friends. And then before you know it, the door to the house is locked behind us, we depart 2051 15th Lane for the last time. What remains of our possessions are 4 suitcases in the back of a rented, gray Prius.

Our first quest began in Tammy’s kitchen: finding the storage locker in Miami. Hershel doesn’t remember the name of the storage company. It’s not on the spread sheet.     And God said, ‘Ha!”
I’ll always recall sitting at Tammy’s kitchen bar, searching for the name. Let’s start out confused. The name is found and in a moment, we find ourselves in Miami at our first hotel in this adventure, searching for restaurants. This is the new normal. 

A late morning flight to Logan International. Good lord our bags!!! Normally we have two carry-ons. So much stuff and definitely not enough. Stopped at Miami TSA for Summerland’s fish dip. “It’s for Hannukah,” we tell the Cubans who populate Miami TSA. “It’s South Florida Schmear, for bagels. Grandma and Zaida are coming for Hannukah.” No one at TSA had much of a sense of humor. Luckily, we are in south Florida, one of the home bases for The Tribe in America. Ultimately, we are allowed to keep the dip. A Hanukkah miracle! One last airport meal at the Versailles – tipo comidas cubana, por favor. Everyone speaks Spanish here. Time to start practicing.

 Day 5 Braintree. 

This is how colonialism works. It convinces us that the fallout from resistance is entirely our fault, that the immoral choice is resistance itself rather than the circumstances that demanded it

The stuff has arrived! In spite of the cold front moving quickly to the East, the driver arrives as scheduled. There was an amazing entryway to the storage unit where the mammoth truck could pull in completely out of the elements to unload. Everything out of the truck in 2.5 hours, even though there was a lengthy path to get to our unit. 

What a luxury, to be able to just hang and enjoy a laid-back time with the G-kids and adult kids. As in all families, time was calculated in meals. Bug’s feeding time, H’s constant grazing, making it all easy with loads of delicious take out. Snow on the day we arrived, with bright blue skies. By Friday, it’s wet and warm. Their home is snuggly decorated with toys for both children and adults. 

 The tale of “hot daddy butt time” is shared. 

I’m having dreams at night about going home and being told there is no home. Giant ticks descended on me last night in my dreams. I don’t know how I feel about that, as I won the blood sucking race with the ticks in my dream. That’s good, isn’t it? Our Sonesta Suite has been a cradle. H is sleeping 9-10 hours in a stretch without drugs? As sort of miracle. Is it the cool weather or the great blackout curtains? It doesn’t hurt that the sun sets at 430pm and it’s not light until almost 8. Yay, circadian rhythms. 

Hanukkah

Pickle and Latte arrive late. Covid testing delayed their arrival time. All’s well that end’s well and we wallowed together, enjoying being together. Everyone has agreed that a family holiday does not, in fact, need to be celebrated when the rest of the world decides. We are a practical people (well sort of) Holiday travel sucks. Holiday pricing sucks. No one has a real job, except for Dr. Wasserbell. The next McWasserbell reunion is in August 2023. 

Lilmin and Bug are a delight! Right now, polar opposites in personality. Lilmin,is  a ball of energy and has been since she was born. Bug, has a Buddha body and continence and a smile as bright as the sun. This is what I am really here for. I forgo much of the adulting, to lay in the floor, buried deep in the imagination of Lilmin: riding unicorns and casting magic spells. I didn’t know my hips could bend that way.

Best Hanukkah meal ever. 10,000 latkes and Indian Take Out. I poo-poo on the standard sour cream and apple sauce topping for latkes, because Sag in any form over a latke is heaven on earth. Latke's topped with Masala is a close second. I think we have a new family favorite.