My Best Friend is Moving

You heard me right, my best friend is moving. I've got mixed feelings about the whole thing. Before I get into the whole "mixed feelings" aspect of this move, I should give you a little history on our friendship. I've known him for almost thirty years. I met him in sixth grade, and we've been friends pretty much ever since. After high school, I joined the Marine Corps and moved away. By the time I was out of the Corps, he had completed college and moved to another part of the state... just as I was moving back to our hometown.

Since we lived only a couple of hours away from each other, we visited often... every couple of months or so, and circumstances brought me to the city where we both live now, which allows us to see each other all the time. Up until today, he lived either a long walk or short drive away. (Being slightly lazy, it was usually a short drive.) We've shared a lot of good times, and seen each other through many not-so-good times.

That pretty much brings us up to speed, so now I'll talk about the mixed feelings. He's not moving across the country... he's moving across town, so it's not like he's really moving away. He's relocating. It's still a short drive to his place, but I certainly can't walk there anymore. This may seem like a little thing, but in my gut it still feels like he's moving farther away.

The house he lived in until today was a little place, built in the 1930's. During the time he lived there, I helped him essentially gut the place and rebuild it in his image. We completely overhauled the basement, going to the point of jack-hammering out the concrete in the basement floor so we could install drainage tile. We've tiled floors, installed Pergo floors, and knocked out virtually every wall at one point or another. A lot of blood and sweat have been spilled in that old house. I'm sorry to see him sell it.

This sorrow isn't mine alone. He was emotionally attached to that house for very good reason. It's a little house, filled with a lot of love. But the fact is, now that he has two kids the family has outgrown the house. He had planned on adding on to the house, but his wife pushed him to move. That's caused a lot of family strife, and they're moving mainly for the sake of the family. I dislike the rationale (because he felt pushed to move) but I agree with the decision.

I'm happy that he found a place his family will like. The location is definitely better for the kids. Lots of back streets for the kids to learn to ride a bike and play. His wife is kind of hung up on keeping up with the Jones', and I think this will bring her a measure of happiness. But agreeing to move was a bitter pill for my friend to swallow. Fortunately, he's looking at the positive aspects of moving.

The move itself is causing me a little pain. I helped them pack the U-Haul yesterday, and my muscles are telling me that I worked harder than I've worked in a long time -- and I'm helping them unpack today. I'm not looking forward to my aching body tomorrow. Additionally, they have a lot more stuff than they realized, so my garage is acting as a temporary overflow. I just got the thing cleared out so that Mrs. Evan and I could get our cars in the garage, and now it's got more crap in it than I've ever had in there. With the weather turning cold outside, I miss getting into a warm car inside of the garage, but it's a minor inconvenience when compared to the help I'm giving my friend. Hopefully, it'll all be cleared out soon. Yeah, I know I'm helping him out, but I want my garage back.