I shared our new Massachusetts address with family and friends. It turned out to be the wrong address. In mid-July, our new apartment waiting, John and I drove to Massachusetts from Ohio. Beth chose to stay in the Tiffin apartment by herself for less than a week, to continue swim training. I would return to Ohio in five days later. She spent time with Ellen and Lizzy. Peggy drove her to and from swim practices.
When John and I arrived at Watertown Square in a heavy car, the wrong apartment waited for us. The leasing staff apologized for their mistake and significantly dropped the rent at another, nicer complex owned by the same company. Instead of unloading the car in Watertown Square, we drove a little farther to the next suburb, Waltham. We chose an apartment with big windows at the top of Bear Hill where chipmunks played on the balcony. The downside? It extended John’s commute to work a little, and our rent would jump to the usual higher rate, over $2,000 a month, after a year. In the meantime, we could live in an upscale, fancy, sunny, spacious apartment. We called Macy’s to change the delivery address for our new mattresses and unloaded the car.
We made several phone calls to family with our correct address.
John picked out our first flat screen TV, and we set out on a mission to find the perfect sofa. We also stocked up on groceries for our empty kitchen. The second day, we perused more sofas from Dedham to Natick to Burlington. The third day, we bought the first sofa we had liked on the first day, a wine-colored reclining sectional. It would move with us three times.
I left John in Waltham without a car, but with Maria not far away. I drove back to Ohio by myself, singing with CDs most of the way. In Tiffin, Beth and I folded clothes at a laundromat and packed for her training camp in Colorado and the Brazil games after. Sad to end their long Tiffin history, Beth said goodbye to Ellen and Lizzy. I’d miss her friends, too.
I dropped Beth and Peggy off at the Detroit airport. Then I sold the beds, emptied the apartment, loaded the car, and gave away the rest. I headed east, excited for the new beginning. I replayed my favorite Joshua Radin song, “Everything’ll Be Alright.”
Wherever we lived, John made it my home.
When I arrived back in Waltham, our apartment only had a sofa, a TV on the floor, and two mattresses. I unpacked my grandma’s etched crystal bowl for the kitchen counter and added fresh fruit.
My African violets survived the car ride and found new sunny windows to love at the top of Bear Hill.
1/23/2019 05:06:58 pm
Aw, this one was too sweet even with delving into the unknown and new beginnings that comes with moving.
1/26/2019 07:38:14 pm
Thanks, Jason! Yes, it's disorientating at first in a new home. I've moved about a dozen times, and it doesn't get any easier!
Whew, Cindy, I got tired just reading about everything you and John did in 3 days. Glad you got the posh place for a bit--you must have been a tad shocked to roll up at the wrong apartment that first day.
1/27/2019 02:11:04 pm
Amy, when I look back at that time, it really was crazy. In a one-week time period, I drove the 13 hours between Tiffin, Ohio and Boston twice--all by myself and in one day. I stopped to nap when I needed to, but now I wouldn't attempt that drive by myself in one day. I like to think I'm a little wiser! And yes, isn't it nice to be reassured in our favorite songs that "Everything's Gonna Be Alright!" I hope they're right. ;-)
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