Moving Part I

So we're moving...sort of.

In the most complicated of moving stories, we are moving OUT of our duplex in German Village to the OTHER side of the same duplex. This means saying goodbye to our roommate, AJ, and also to 299 Siebert, which has served us so well for the past four years. 

I moved to German Village during residency, from the relative boondocks of suburban Columbus. I loved the rental condo on Bethel road, its 60" TV and on-site fitness center, but seemed to always find myself driving back downtown for a concert, cocktail or club. Life was so much more vibrant near High and Broad. Truth is, I see now that I was just growing up, exerting my independence, trying to create a life outside of school and work, and the pavement-bordered corporate offerings of suburbia just weren't cutting it anymore. Did I mention its also a 7 minute drive to Nationwide Children's? Indeed! So, we moved to 299 Siebert Street, just steps away from Schiller Park and Barcelona, and we have loved it ever since. It is one of the best decisions I've ever made.

After a few months on Siebert, our new friend Carla joined us there.  A few months later, her brother, AJ, joined the fun. A few more months later, lovely Carla married the lively Craig, and she returned to Cleveland and her northwest Ohio roots to make a home of her own. AJ has held it down at 299 even as I moved along--at least for part of the week-- to Jeremy's house in Ironton and my new practice.  

But now, as life is a woven web of spider silks, we are making our way back to Columbus. Hopefully one day we will live in ONE house, and I'll be able to keep some plants alive. I am so tired of coming home to dirty laundry and dead plants. It is difficult to stay on top of things when you are gone for half of the week. One day things will be different, but maybe not. I've come to terms with that. 

For now, I'm moving my things across the wall to 301 Siebert, a mirror image of our former Columbus dwelling. In the same fell swoop, I'm selling my old furniture to AJ...the Morris family currently has enough couches for THREE houses. Saying goodbye to the furniture has left me a little sad, in a way I didn't expect.

I bought the furniture with mom and dad, as a bright-eyed dental student on her first real day living in her new apartment in the big city. I felt very adult; the couches matched the coffee tables and it was NEW, aka not a hand-me down. I remember thinking the beige corduroy pattern reminded my of my Grandpa Schafer's chair, minus the patina of 15 years of use and the faint odor of gasoline. Schafer men will smell like nothing else for as long as I live.  I remember the couch as a soft place to fall, crying tears into its armrest pillows after declining an ill-timed engagement request. If you look closely, there is a small burn from wayward cigarette ash; the loveseat was the perfect place to lean against and out the window at the same time. I recall coffee tables dotted with pink denture wax, the leavings of countless hours spent on mediocre prosthodontic efforts. 

But now its time to say goodbye to the furniture and to 299. They are left in very good hands and have a bright future. As for my plants, we may never know. 

Onto bigger and better things, I'm sure.