As one door closes...

As you know, I've been consumed lately by packing up my condo and preparing for the BIG move to LA. It's been an interesting couple of weeks, something akin to what I envision an archeological dig might be. I've found stuff I forgot I had. I even found my next door neighbor (and old friend) Lori's birthday present that I MEANT to give her last year. She assures me that I gave her a gift but I'll be damned if I know what it is... the gift I meant to give her was staring up at me from the bottom of the coat closet. Don't ask me HOW it got in there, I think the dog did it.

Did I mention, I HATE to move? Must have been caused by all the moves I went through as a military man's child. Another consequence of my childhood is that I don't get attached to houses. After all, they were just made to be moved out of. Nothing to get attached too, simply a pile of wood, bricks and gypsum cleverly arranged to give humans shelter.

As I was wandering around my nearly empty condo, picking up the last pieces of my life there, I was taken by surprise to find myself suddenly wrapped in a gauze like haze of memories. It seemed as if the fairy dust dancing in the late afternoon sun carried the faint echo of my friend's laughter. Wandering from room to room, it grew... the clink of glasses raised in toast came from the dining room... outside, the laughter from grilling out with friends and in the living room, it seemed to burst with the energy of that Holiday party, the one with about 100 people all laughing and enjoying themselves. Until at last I found myself in the bedroom, where I swear, my heart could hear the faint sigh and whispered "I love you." of the woman I had hoped to spend my life with.

As I stood there for a moment before I turned the key, driving the dead bolt home for the last time, I prayed that while this door is closed, many more will open for me in the land of sunshine and movies.