I see Ames!
When I was little, my grandma lived on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. I learned pretty early on that the last 15-30 minutes of any drive are the longest, most fidgety and most unbearable of all. Driving down from our home in Delaware, everything was copacetic until we started thinking about being the first to see the Ames store on the edge of town. The first one of us to yell “I see Ames!” got relief for a massive case of ants in the pants.
It’s been like that with my move. You’d think that going down one floor and over one apartment would be a piece of cake, but nooooo. Add to that the fact that my personal and professional lives will be turned upside down within the next two weeks — in good ways, but terrifying ways nonetheless — and you’ve got one antsy Susannah.
At this point, the new place is nicely livable, but I’ve still got a little way to go. Today, though, I emptied out the old place. It’s a little emotional for me; I don’t think I’ve ever had a more eventful 2.5 years than the time I spent there. I’m just so thankful for the people who helped me plow on through.
Even though the anticipation could go on forever, we knew we only had one moment to see Ames for the first time. Then we passed it, and then we knew we were almost there.
Ames is behind me now, and that feels great.
You know that Willie Nelson song, “Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys”? I can do him one better. My version, though, is called “Daughters, Don’t Let Your Daddies Attempt To Make Anything Involving An Allen Wrench.”
(I keed! I keed! Couldn’t have done it without you, Dad… or the extra three trips to the furniture store…)