I leave Denver, my home for almost eleven years, give or take, in less than a week. I’m excited about DC, but sad to leave. A coworker told me a story about a traveler who comes to the gates of a city and asks a wise man standing there what kind of city it is. The wise man asks the traveler what kind of city he has left behind, and the traveler says, “Oh, it was terrible! The people were greedy and always ready to stab you in the back. The streets were dirty and full of crime…” and on and on. The wise man says, “That’s the kind of city you will find here.” And of course a second traveler comes along, and asks the same question. The wise man asks again, “What kind of city have you left behind?” The second traveler says his city was filled with wonderful people and opportunity. “That is the kind of city you will find here,” said the wise man. And I hope that in leaving Denver I open myself up for new friendships and new experiences just as rewarding as those I’ve had here. And, of course, there will be visits and chats and e-mails and calls. I’m tied to this city more strongly than anywhere.
Moving after a few years is an exercise in letting go, holding on, and rediscovery. I’ve finally shredded my credit card statements (which I’ve been filing since early college!), and used it to pack my dishes. I packed up my first stuffed animal, Boo Boo Bear, stored him, and will retrieve him today because I can’t leave him. I’ve found wedding announcements, Christmas greetings, newspaper clippings, letters from friends, all piled nicely in boxes and on their way across the country. Every piece of furniture, every book, has a story. I can’t drag everything around with me forever, but a lot of it can’t be left behind, either.
The final hurrah has been scheduled for my actual last night in town, this Saturday. If you are around and didn’t get an invitation, let me know… And there will also be free pizza and beer for lunch on Saturday, on the condition of helping me load my truck.