Moving

I'm just not used to people moving, but it's happening all around us.

Aaliyah is moving tomorrow. She is our first neighborhood friend--a six year old two doors down who, with her father, is moving out of her grandparents' house into an apartment with his girlfriend and her 3 daughters. She has been a regular playmate for Sarah Frances and Catherine. Patrick too. They ride bikes and scooters, play games, and climb trees together. She called me Mamacita early on. We will miss her, but she'll finish out the school year here and be at her grands most days after school.

Then Trey, our next-door neighbor, doesn't realize how much he's going to miss his fan club. He got a youth internship at his church, which provides free housing, and he's moving sometime in the next couple of weeks. When we got home from errands this morning, he was walking down to his car, and I could hardly put the car in P before they all four clambered out to say hi. Even Lillian in her sweet, high voice was calling out, "Hi, Trey! Hi, Trey!" He plays freeze tag with the kids and has been over for dinners a handful of times this year. And he's been our babysitter. And he brings me a cherry limeade from Sonic when he comes home during happy hour. But he works at Schnuck's about a 1/2 mile from here. Maybe he'll swing by after he's off, if he keeps the job.

Lastly, the Woods, our precious friends, are fixing their house up to sell and move from St. Louis. They don't know when or where they're headed, but it's bound to happen. Marne and I are still making summer plans together, supporting each others' denial.

All this change is breaking my heart. Better get used to it, I suppose. It's not like this is our last move either.