Déjà vu

Well, here we are.  Less than 24 hours until we pick up our rental truck and say goodbye to Chicago for the last time. 

My parents graciously came to Chicago this weekend and tirelessly helped us prepare the apartment for our move out. Our landlady has a 17 point "addendum" to the lease which stipulates, in painful detail, all of the charges to our security deposit if we don't follow the instructions to a tee.  We cleaned out behind the stove and refrigerator, filled in (and painted) nail holes, and bleached the living daylights out of the shower (not to mention lost a few brain cells in the process, man...bleach is strong!).  And don't forget, we packed and reorganized every earthly possession.  

And then they left and I relived those terrifying moments my freshman year of college when they drove away and I realized, standing there in the parking lot, how utterly alone I was.  I wanted to force myself to be independent and adventurous and I had no clue how to accomplish that.  I was thrilled at the prospect of living "in the city" (psh, Palos Heights) and living an exciting life on my own.  Now, ten years later, I like to consider myself a fully independent adult.  I've lived on my own for the past ten years and am still in one piece.  I've had a stable job, I've purchased cars and furniture (albeit from Ikea, but it still counts),  I'm freakin' married!  Come on!  Yet my heart aches just as much as it did that day.  I know I'll see them soon, but it won't be nearly as easy.  I won't be there for the birth of my newest nephew and it kills me.  I won't be able to meet my mom in Michigan City and go shopping.  I won't be able to go out for coffee with my dad when he drives through town.  I won't be able to be there for every one of my niece's birthdays and they're already growing so fast.  I won't be able to go out for breakfast with my grandparents and chat about life.  I won't be able to call my mom, in tears because I'm sick and be surprised when she shows up on my doorstep three hours later with chicken soup.  Don't get me wrong, I can't wait to move to Portland and I'm excited about starting a new phase of life with my wonderful husband.  But for now,  I'm just gonna sit on the sofa and bawl like a baby and realize that inside, I'm still a terrified 18 year old who has no clue what she's getting herself into.