My Life in Boxes

As you can tell from the countdown over there on the right, my time here is growing shorter. Ticking down to take-off, that clock seems to be moving faster than any clock should. The last days, I've been boxing up the items I've accumulated over the last 34 years, and each item going into a box reminds me of some memory or some experience along the way.

And it's interesting, because I won't be taking these boxes with me. They'll go into storage, or be given to Good Will or somewhere. And like the people I've made these memories with, they'll stay here, unable to tag along. And like each item being stored away, with one more moment to hold it in my hand and remember, I've had all of these events and get-togethers scheduled to do the same thing with friends and family, and let them do the same with me.

Sure, we'll stay in touch, but things will be different. I know that. Just different.

I wonder how I'll be once I'm this disconnected, placed into a new world, all but starting over. Will I be like a plant that adapts and grows in a new environment? Or will I be a rock, staying the same, just getting rained on more and snowed on less?

I know I'm an adaptive guy, and I can be as sociable as the next, so I'm sure I'm going to have a great time, and get a lot done, and really refresh my outlook on life. But still, looking into the unknown, one has to wonder about the outcome.

I'm not trying to be melancholy here, or depressed. I just see this all as the downside to a really good step in the right direction for my life. And like my songs, it's easier to sit down and write about the sad stuff than it is to write about the good stuff.

I guess what I'm saying, while I still have a little time to say it, is that like my piano and my guitars and my bed, I'll miss you all.