Now: the Big Move

There was a relief to be in a van heading back toward Uptown and my apartment building along the lakefront. I’d retrieved my 2 bikes and checked-luggage and, after cramming it all in the mini-van thought to myself: Oh my God how am I going to move with 100x this amount of stuff in a mini-van?

You see, I refused to acknowledge I had stuff. I’d flown to Eugene in December with a bike and a suitcase and was still subconsciously suspended within that model. Except now, I had 2 bikes and a whale of stuff to transport.

Change of plans.

Let’s just say once I went to my storage unit, I saw the light. I’d need a truck 

So for the past 5 days I’ve been on a treadmill of packing, meeting up with old friends, appointments with bank, haircut, etc. Oh, and plus my Zoom class for Story Studio. I was packing more than just stuff, I was packing life into these 5 days left here in Chicago.

On Saturday I had a full day of storage unit, meeting up with Rian, the friend who came out to see me and bike in Oregon—we biked downtown and chatted, catching up and saying good bye, for now. Then I stopped at Women & Children First for a copy of a book, the author of whom I was meeting up with coffee. Lisa Sukenic and I sat and chatted outside of Kopi’s in Andersonville, talking about her book(s) as well as mine. I’m still trying to find hope after the miserable launch of my last novel, Cloud of Witnesses, which I likened to a turd on the sidewalk people step over. It seemed no one wanted to read it. Lisa tried to persuade me otherwise. Kind of her.

Her current novel, Miles from Motown, and her current work-in-progress all have to do with Michigan. How fitting! I’ll be reading the next one as well!

Finally it was back to my place for a party. A Going-Away to-do. This was a perfect parting. This was in contrast once again from the departure last December in the grey morning when Sandy pulling out of her parking spot and spotting a falcon on a fence post said, It’s a sign. 

At the time I thought: Of what? What? I had no idea. Of the unknown. Of what lay ahead. Of life.

My daughter was about to give birth. Now I have a grandson. I left lonely and afraid in a pandemic. Now I leave with confidence, covered by love and good wishes, in a pandemic. No longer alone. Just like the theme in my novel, Cloud of Witnesses, I am surrounded, by imperfect people with foibles and fears, but nevertheless great love and courage, with their own stories. We are all on a journey.

At the start of the party I was given and received the Bicyclists Prayer of Safety. Which I thought was a made-up thing, but no!—it’s on the Internet and they printed it off and framed it for me.

So now it goes with me—with ALL the other boxes I’m taking.

 

May the Lord be with you at home and on the road, 

and with you on your journeys.

May God bless you and keep you safe on your bicycle. 

May you encounter the risen Lord in your travels, 

in the freedom of the open road, 

in the fellowship of other cyclists 

and in each person you meet.

May God grant you that which cannot be bought or sold:

appreciation of nature’s beauty

deep breaths of fresh air

    strengthening your heart and lungs

        clearing your mind

space to face and resolve your inner conflicts

bestowing courtesy

a gentle tread upon your path on earth

pleasant memories as you lie down at night

These are the blessings we ask for you.

May God’s mercy, grace and love shine upon you, 

now and forever. 

Amen.

take note of bike specific décor

those little bikes were laser cut

friends for ever big time