I am going through my desk right now. Well, I was until I started typing. The movers are coming tomorrow so today is the day to finish things like sorting through my office, the downstairs bathroom and the tubs that have my mom’s clothes in them. Oh, and let’s not forget the mess that is the dining room table!

Yesterday was a flurry of activity and the biggest accomplishment was finding someone to finish my chair. Mom had been recovering my favorite armchair as an upholstery class project and it was big secret deal. Every week she would load the chair into her Vanagon, take the ferry to Bremerton and go to upholstery class. I never peeked at the chair because I wanted to be surprised and also because I wanted to annoy her. One of my mom’s favorite stories to tell about her daughter was my inability to not discover what gifts were coming. I was compelled to investigate and discover what was hiding in the closets. But to make it worse, I also would tell my younger brothers exactly what they were getting. So, when Mom was working on the chair, I was determined not to look because I knew she was expecting me to. We had a relationship like that, oppositional in the best of ways. This was a class that Mom took two years ago, when she was 71. Not your average senior activity.

The chair has been in the garage, exactly as she left it. For the past week, I have been trying to find someone to finish it so it could go. Upholstery is labor intensive and a dying art. But the chair is now in the hands of Bill the upholsterer. And he thinks it will be done by Friday. And even if it’s not, it will still be further along than it is right now. He was reassured after I told him that I didn’t want him to redo my Mom’s work, just finish the back and the side pieces. That I wanted her imperfections as they were because this was her work and that’s what means most to me. Hell’s bells, I am crying again.

George’s 8th birthday was Monday. So, he and his brother got their plain double cheeseburgers from McDonald’s. It is amazing how such a smelly, steamed and soggy thing can give two dogs such happiness. It’s a good thing it only happens on their birthdays!

I’ve been realizing something over the past few days. I am really fortunate to be surrounded by people of power. I’m not talking weightlifters but rather the strength that comes from the truth of being one’s self. As I go through this process of moving, I am humbled by the enormity of heart that my friends have. This makes me realize that I do have really good taste when it comes to surrounding myself with people. But more than that, the people that are in my life are there precisely for the reason that they need to be. I don’t have to wonder if this move will break friendships, I just have to know that it will give us new places to meet and ways to connect. Like a blog, for example. Or a terrace café near Park Frankendael. Or the stroepwafel vendor in the Albert Cuyp market.

And back to the sort since I can hear the OCD Move Goddess in my head (even though she is not here today) saying “Purpose or memory? Neither, then recycle, donate or garbage. Keep moving.”