Moving Day

Nine years of accumulated possessions are now in boxes awaiting the shipping container that will take them on the long, slow trip to Hong Kong.
Like most Americans, we just have too much stuff. Even after winnowing down, after numerous trips to St. Vincent DePaul, the house still looks like a warehouse this morning.

A big part of the problem is my sentimentality. It just kills me to part with anything that embodies even the smallest episode in our family’s story.
An example: I came across a bright yellow plastic, bird shaped pitcher as we frantically prepared for the arrival of the movers. For some reason, this was Daughter Zamek’s favorite toy when she was toddler. I held the pitcher in my hand. I remembered. I kept it. It is not going to Hong Kong, but it is not headed to the thrift store or a landfill either.

Tonight is our last in the house. After today we will be refugees, crashing with the R. family until our departure date. This is only fitting since our two families have merged over the years. We are a kind of clan. It’s such a shame that tunnel we planned to build between our houses was never completed.

We still have some last things to do in Baton Rouge. I need to hit Frank’s again at least once. I am not sure that they really do have the best biscuits in the world, but they are definitely in the running. Beignets at Coffee Call are a must. A last lunch with my Rabbi, Unitarian Rev. Steve is firming up. And there will be just too many good-byes.

To my mishpocha at Beth Shalom I repeat the words I left you with when I gave my last drasha back in June:

We are not leaving here empty handed. We take many blessings with us. This has been R’s only home and the only home A. remembers and they have been given a tremendous start in life from their years of growing and learning here. Baton Rouge has become a part of them. My baby girl says y’all very naturally and my boy has a strange attraction to Camo. And they have both learned what it means to be in the loving embrace of community.
Martha and I too leave dear friends and a home we have loved. We have lived a lot of life together-- your families and mine-- times of real serenity and times of true turmoil. I have had the sad, but sacred duty of laying many of our founding generation to rest and I have watched a new generation of leaders rise to ably take their place. I am especially grateful to my presidents-- Bob who brought me here, Steve W., Debbie C., Laurie M. and Linda P. who have taken on the rewarding, but often thankless job of leading the congregation.
Being your Rabbi has been one of the greatest blessings of my life. I thank you for what you have taught me. I thank you for your friendship. It has been---- Tov.