When Mars and Venus Collide

                                                                                                                                                                        

I can't mince words. Nothing unusual there.

I've gotta be real even if this one gets me into trouble. This one sits closer to home. Actually, it sits right next to me on the couch.

It was a challenge. It wasn't easy.

This was a test graded by pass or fail. I think we passed. At least we did for the first grading period. We passed by passing the half-way point in our arduous moving adventure.

It's been eye-opening. It's downright crazy how differently men and women approach major life events. Our move is such an event. It's so even if I do only say so myself! It appears to be more major for us than for them. More for me than for him.

I dreamed. I designed. I developed. I nurtured. I nested my nest.

I am remembering and relishing every moment in every room as I packed box after box after 400th blessed box.

My moving decision was a very emotional one. I cried room by room as I did a final walk through of my house. I call it, "my house." Rightfully so because I met with an architect to bring "my house" to life from plan to pantry 24 years ago. 

On that last trip home, I journaled. I prayed. I thanked. I praised. I sobbed.

My husband - that male in my life - that human from Mars - not so much - not emotional at all! Not the tiniest of tear ever ran down his cheek. His emotional connection left the property way before the sign even went in the yard. He'd moved on before the move even began.

Me - I could hardly see out of my tear-stained eyes as I drove out of "my driveway" one last time when I could still call it mine. I had to stop to say a last goodbye to my boys' handprints no longer visible in the once freshly-poured concrete. Many basketballs were dribbled on top and baseballs were caught within their view.

My Mars man didn't get my Venus vibe!

My grown-into-men sons act like Mars males too. What a surprise! They weren't nostalgic about our move either. It was frustrating. Maybe even a bit hurtful. All I poured in to not be worthy of an emotional sigh or somber reflection?

Men! They act like they're from another planet!

For my man to not care, he seemed to care a lot about things that made zero sense to me. I honestly did appreciate his wanting to give the future residents the best we could give. That is an admirable trait but can bring on a headache along with it.  He wanted to paint walls, cut down trees, replace sidewalks, and re-pour a driveway. While he pressure-washed the garage floor, I just wanted some help with a few boxes. 

In the end, it was nothing short of miraculous how God provided the last box needed at the last minute needed with the last ounce of strength I needed.  We got ur done without killing each other! Yay for us!

Our motto soon became, "Apartment Sweet Apartment." We haven't been in such a dwelling since our newlywed days almost 39 years ago. Some have asked if we feel like newlyweds again. Maybe one day but not as of yet and not so much so far. Ask me again in four months.

No, it more feels like camping. Overnight we went from 6000 square feet to 1000. The plan was to get settled over moving weekend then we'd go our separate ways for the work week. Covid had other ideas to give us more togetherness for more bonus days. You can't avoid germs when you're constantly in spitting distance of each other! We've already experienced closer than close communion. 

It is a simpler life. Truly a welcomed change for a season...our moving season.

Additional points to ponder:

How small can a refrigerator be to still be considered a full-size refrigerator? 

If you are one of the 6 grilling spatulas we own, where might you be hiding? 

A public service announcement: If you failed to pack any blankets for tv watching and cuddling next to your Mars Man - a beach towel will do!

When one journey ends.

The next one begins.

Our blessing depends

on staying good friends!