Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans. I think John Lennon said that. Succinct and straight forward in its synopsis of our adult lives. Lately, I’ve felt like I can’t keep up with life’s speed. I’m busy scribbling down my ‘to-dos’ on a Post-It note so that when I get home I can knock them out one by one and feel some sense of accomplishment when two or three more things to consider pop up before I can even get to my first item. The list constantly gets longer and time constantly gets shorter.

For the last 30 to 45 days, I’ve spent an inordinate amount of that time trying to craft some vague representation of a list of ‘must-dos’ before we moved in to our new house. I ran out of time, the month was ending, and we had to be out of our rented ghetto-cage known as an apartment. I think we all suffer from some form or degree of procrastination. So that being said, it’s a good thing that we all run short on time and are forced to make decisions and execute on our plans before time runs out. If not for time being in short supply, we’d all sit on our couches with our Starbuck’s lattes, make our lists of things we need to do before we get older, and never get to what we had laid out to accomplish. I hate Starbuck’s and its laziness fostering brewed products.

So if life is what happens while you’re busy making plans, then parents are the dam that slows the flowing waters of life letting you catch your breath. There’s no way that any of our plans could have been successfully executed in the last month if it weren’t for my parents. Through every bend, around every corner, and next to every speed bump, they’ve been there to support me and my wife in our decisions. I’m so thankful, grateful, and appreciative of everything my mom and dad have done to support this difficult decision of starting new our next chapter.

That being said, I’m not always the most vocal about my appreciation and blessings. I’m more apt to externalize how much I’m annoyed by an individual’s behavior, profess my philosophical ramblings, or pontificate the inabilities of Washington drivers to operate their automobiles on paved or unpaved roadways in rain or shine than I am to issue a thanks. Now this isn’t because I don’t care or a result of being unappreciative. It’s just that I’m inherently negative. Smile? Why? Just try to not piss me off, please.

Moving on. I really do appreciate the support of my friends and family I’ve received over the years. Friends came out of the woodwork to be there for me when I lost my brother. It’s funny, I felt back then like that was the worst possible place to be in my life. Emotionally, it probably was. However, from the logistical nightmare of being the head of a household yet inherently hobbled by your immaturity, planning to sell a home, move a family, live in temporary housing, find a new location to begin our next chapter, and settle in to our new home was a daunting activity to go through. Painstakingly making your best educated decision on relocation while trying to mitigate financial damage and emotional distress of your little boys and wife all while starting a new job stretch you to your personal limits. Because of that, you need help. You need others. You need family and friends. I’m very lucky to have unconditional support from my mom and dad during this rough phase of stress and starting again.

It’s been much harder than healing from grief. Maybe that’s an unfair comparison but cerebrally now I find the stakes of life being much higher. But the rewards are that much more gratifying as well. But in both cases, the real key in successfully righting the ship and navigating those unstable waters of emotion and ambiguity is having a lighthouse to guide your way home. My mom and dad have always been this. But it has been much more distinct these last few months.

Unconditional. An overused word used too frequently to describe relationships. But I couldn’t find any more appropriate word to succinctly to summarize it all. A natural born writer, I’m not. An emotional rat’s nest of incongruent thoughts, I do represent that. My parents have really come through recently supporting all of this.

Support of moving, taking care of the dogs while they routinely escaped the yard, missing car shows and swapmeets, painting dining room walls, installing overhead storage, pressure washing walls, babysitting, sweeping floors, taking our shit to the dump, smashing cardboard, remodeling and destroying a well, providing meals and a place to sleep when our apt was less than desirable or when we need to be at the new house early the next day, co-piloting during the actual move, and providing hope that this decision will work out.

And that’s the short list of contributions in an effort to keep my words per entry down. I’m lucky. Feel like I’ve had some bad luck and made some questionable decisions at times over the years, but their guidance and values have always allowed me to sail away from the wake of devastation. That’s the value of having a bright lighthouse.