What Is In Your Backpack?

Michael and I just watched the movie "Up In the Air". The premise is about a guy who has chosen a path of taking ownership of nothing except himself. I really liked the movie and the main character. I liked the idea of choosing a life path of owning nothing. Having owned everything, it feels appealing to me at times, to be accountable to nothing but yourself and your job. In the movie he sees the world differently for the first time and questions whether or not he made the right choice. Michael and I are at our own cross roads now and have to take the time to figure out what exactly it is that we want.
Me, my kids and now Michael, too have had to move multiple times. I never pictured myself being in that position. I certainly never pictured us moving our family 1200 miles away from everything we have ever known, our friends, our family and our home towns. I say to them what I say to you now, it is what it is. The best laid plans, you know...
As a child I pictured myself with a big family living in the same house, me at home taking care of everyone living happily ever after in Ohio. But I had other dreams too. I also saw myself with only maybe one child, a large career and an apartment in New York City. That also was one of my dreams. Marriage in that one was strictly optional, but not mandatory. My other dream for myself was one of no kids, a career in musical theater and no pets, no husband, no anything. It was all very solitary, except for my very dear friends, whom I have always seemed to have.
Michael wanted to travel. He spent much of his adult life in a tiny house with no pets, no wife, no kids. His house was spotless, his life very manageable and dare I say, a little sterile at times. I came along an blew him out of the water. He is a brave man for making that kind of change. We were both brave, because at the point where we got married I was becoming more and more OK with the idea of being single. I wasn't completely convinced I could do marriage well. You would have to ask Michael if it turned out I could. I am just myself in our marriage, for better or worse, so I really don't know if I have gotten it right this time. I do know that it doesn't feel so hard, we don't fight much and I know I am loved and I love him. I guess, with all of that being said, we are a success. We have renovated a couple houses together and haven't killed each other, so that says something, too.
Michael and I are having big discussions now about what it is we want as a couple with grown kids. This is very unfamiliar territory for me. Most of my adult life has been about my children. The house had to be in a good neighborhood with excellent schools, sidewalks and nice neighbors. The town had to have soccer, baseball and a sense of community. It has been about the kids for so long, I haven't taken the time to figure out what it is I want for myself. Michael, having had a large chunk of freedom, doesn't feel sure about where to go from here. The one thing we both agree on is we want time together as a couple. Getting married after the family has shown up is tough. Our marriage has been based on the auto family plan which has meant putting the kids first and us second for the bulk of the time we have been married. We did our best to help the kids get used to us as a "blended" family. They have and we are all on the same page now, after many years, lots of work and compromise. It wasn't an easy transition, but it was definitely worth the effort. As newlyweds, Michael and I put our burning desires for each other, our lives, and our hopes and dreams on the back burner. The kids are grown now. The youngest graduates form high school in two months. They are all adults. They have their own lives, friends, wants and dreams and are currently not counting on being "at home" much longer.
When I was about 35 I would look toward the future and think about when my 47th birthday would roll around. Why 47? Because I had done the math and figured out that was the year the kids would be grown and graduated. It felt like the day would never come. It felt like it was a million years away, and now here it is staring me in the face.
Mike and I have spent the last year getting rid of "things". I have no idea how we accumulated so much stuff, but it felt as if we should start throwing things out, donating to charity and truly cleaning house. Our back pack is chock full of stuff. We have adult kids, 3 dogs, 2 bratty cats, 1 sugar glider and a house full of furniture. As much as we have gotten rid of, we still seem to have so much stuff. As we pack up and get ready to move I continue to toss things to the curb. We have no idea of where we will live or in what house, on what street, or who will be joining us. We have no idea what furniture will fit, or what stuff we actually want to take.

The only thing we can honestly say we know for now, is we want our backpack to be lighter. We will keep the kids and the pets, but the other stuff? I am not sure how much of that will survive the move. Our friends and family will go with us for the rest of our lives. Lucky them, they survive the cut. Our backpack got too heavy and needed to be purged. It's been tough getting rid of so much. But I, nor Michael, nor our kids are our stuff. We will keep pictures, but the truth is if the house caught fire and the pictures burned, we would still have each other and our memories. We will keep certain dishes we love to use, beds that have our indentations on them and practical items like Tupperware and dressers.
It's stressful not having a "plan" for the future. I have never lived that way. But for now, we have to go by the seat of our pants and see what happens. We have several ideas of where we might end up, but nothing certain is driving us to the finish. This has been one of the hardest things I have ever had to do, to let go and let God. Everyday we get closer to selling the house, I feel one more finger loosen it's grip. I am hopeful that I am not the person desperately hanging onto the front door as the moving van pulls away. Just as children, we have so many choices that we cannot decide. I call this sensory overload. So we will wait for things to transpire, time to march on and events to unfold and take another look at our options to see if anything specific has been revealed. The saying "It's always darkest before the dawn" applies here. For now we walk in the moonlight and remember that the our future is anything we want it to be. We just have to figure out what that is.