Really? I have to count the pieces of silverware for insurance? Every item must be counted. Listed? Surely not. Do I really have that much stuff? Will it fit in the mover’s “lift van”? Please say yes. Good thing I didn’t buy anything at the consignment store today. Instead, I took the money they owed me and bought 3 bottles of my favorite white wine. I think I’m going to need it! (Actually I gave 2 bottles away. Good girl.)
Big step…folded up my prize purple Oaxacan rug & it’s protective pad & moved it to the “cargo closet”. It’s already stained from dog vomit made worse by my efforts to clean it. Still, losing it would probably be my greatest loss, in terms of stuff, that is. Moving internationally, by yourself, gives the term “stuff” a whole new meaning.
Morning routine: surrounded by birdsong with tea or coffee after sending Tumi outside. He shakes his body as loudly as a small horse to let me know he’s up and ready. A quick slip into a robe then down to the corner of our street for more exploration. A warmup before his morning walk. My friend Cesar walks him 3 mornings a week while I go to cardiac rehab. Cobblestone walks, both of us with compressed discs, slower than usual. Too easy to fall. Coming apart…
The life that once was…with Ben…adventures in another country. New sounds, new geography, new people, new processes, new language, new destinations. 90% outdoor living…we were so excited…dismantled. Dogs in restaurants and stores…dismantled.
In reality, I suppose the dismantling began with Covid. Lockdown 2 weeks after moving into our new house. Slowly our routines and those of the world around us came apart. Then just as the pieces began to find their (new) place again, Ben’s illness began presenting itself in earnest. It took him, unexpectedly, dismantling his world and mine.
For more than a year I sat in my grief making no big decisions. I couldn’t. No clarity. No energy. I rode the waves of the process, knowing the answers would come in time.
Watching a grade B movie one night, it began. A retreat leader reminded his attendants to ask themselves 3 questions as they left. It was the last one that struck me: “Where do you want to be?” And that did it – I jumped up from the couch, punching my fist in the air as tears filled my eyes – HOME! I screamed. I want to go home to North Carolina! The doors began to open and the work began.
I decided to return to Hillsborough, the town we had left behind, where I had several good friends and would be only about 2 hours from my son and his family. Two weeks after my house went on the market I visited the area to set the ball in motion – found an apartment complex to start out in with a young leasing agent from Mexico, picked out mattresses and a tv stand (where the clerk was also a young woman from Mexico), bought a few household items…spent time with dear friends. Decision confirmed.
On returning to Ajijic, I met with Veronica from Strom White Movers, researched flying pets in luggage hold (and decided against it), found a friend of a friend to drive us all the way to NC in his big Mercedes van, and began making list after list of everything that would need to be done to make this happen. My plan was to go as soon as my house sold. Ben bought it 9 days after it went on the market so I anticipated something similar.
Emptying out…
The sweetest part – after 5+ years of a dismantled relationship – was hearing my son say he was happy I was returning. And my 5-year-old granddaughter reminding me to bring my dog.
So I am dismantling the house bit by bit, giving many things away or taking them to Tepehua Treasures, my favorite charity thrift store. The size of my closet matches the size of the van cargo space so I am gradually filling it. And listing items the movers will take. They come in a week…will I be ready? Timed to work into a truck that will leave for the border with a possible 2-week standstill, this was 2-3 weeks earlier than I expected.
Meanwhile, my pup Tumi was diagnosed with 4 compressed discs and warned off of climbing our 18 steps several times a day. So we left our house – not behind, but next door – to live in a neighbor’s vacant house for the last few weeks before we leave. Dismantling our routine of the 2 years since Ben’s death to live ground level, returning to my house several times a day to continue sorting and packing until it is all done.
The list of details involved in this adventure of dismantling our lives in Mexico to begin a new chapter in the US is mind-boggling. So many days and nights I wondered how in the world I would accomplish it all. Then I began to realize that step by step – poco a poco – I was getting it done, bolstered by friends supporting my accomplishments. The driving force.
And did I mention that during all of this I started cardiac rehabilitation 3 times a week (I see that I did), having recently come close to having a heart attack and having 2 stents placed on an emergency basis? With another one pending. Did I tell you that medications caused my legs and feet to hurt all the time, kept me from sleeping and saddled me with a frequent and ferocious cough? No. Because I’ve been too distracted. But these very things propelled me into an earlier departure, leaving my house in the hands of my realtor.
It’s been on the market for over 4 months now with several lookers but no takers. It is currently a very slow market. I suppose I should’ve waited until it sells to move. That was my original plan, the practical plan. But my heart issues are new – and scary – and I want to be home. Ajijic felt like home to Ben, and though I love the people here, the colors, I have never called it that. For me, my longtime friends and family are waiting…back home. More on that later.
Weren’t we blessed?