April, 2024


Soon enough, it’ll be time to say goodbye to my life in Wilsonville. To step out that door one last time, likely never to step back through that same threshold again.

That’s my next step – now that the trip through Europe is planned, with the backups controlled and locked down, and my landing area in Ireland in process… I turn to packing my life into boxes. Boxes to be sent to storage, boxes to be sold, and boxes to be shipped across the world to help me acclimatize into my new life.

Before I do that, though, I’ve been making a point to allow myself time to feel and time to grieve.

It’s sad to think about leaving, and I’m being generous with how much time I give myself to get this done. Could I do it all in a week? Probably. Do I want to? Not in the slightest. I’ve been in this apartment for very nearly 4 years… four years of growth, recovery, memories. Happiness and sadness, connection and distance. It’s the longest I’ve been in one place since I left my childhood home, and has helped me through one of the most trying portions of my life.

I cooked meals, grew plants. Sat by the fire, laughed and cried, both alone and with company. Left for trips, always knowing that my little corner of the world would be waiting for me to return to it.

I still remember the first few weeks after I moved in… I had my couch and desk, but didn’t have much else… not even a kitchen table. When I was finally able to cook meals for just myself, with healthy ingredients that I had picked out from the local grocery… Any outside viewers may have felt sorry for me, sitting alone by my computer and eating a meal of grilled chicken and broccoli… but frankly, it was one of the most freeing times of my life.

These four years have been good, there’s no doubt about it, and I’ve accumulated quite a few pieces of memorabilia to celebrate that. I also have quite a few “anchors” – furniture that I’ve had since moving to Oregon, that’s likely been holding my subconscious back. Those things that are celebrations of happy memories, I plan on sending to Ireland… at least, as many as I can reasonably ship. The anchors, I plan to sell or donate or dispose of.

Things that fall in between those two, I plan to store. My car, for example, is too near and dear to my heart (not to mention efficient! She still runs like a dream!) and so will be going to a trusted garage for long-term stasis. Some of my books will likely follow, along with whatever knickknacks don’t quite make the weight cut to go to Ireland.


As with March – slowly but surely is the name of the game. I stay patient with myself, give my spirit the runway that it needs, and take things item by item and line by line.