The Things We Keep

After John was laid off in February -- with a few months' severance and an employed wife -- he wasn't in a hurry to find a job. Instead he made some travel plans, with the first stop in the U.K. in March. Where he got a job.

About two months; one "Life in the UK" test; $1,500; and 1,000 sheets of paper later, I became a "settled person."

Since we first knew we would be moving, we've spent many hours going through our stuff -- selling it, giving it away, throwing it out. We've gotten rid of empty boxes, thingies, whatsits, dental impressions, aspirin that expired in 2002. Posters never hung on walls, ship models never put in bottles, vases never filled with roses.

Then there's the scrapbook I started when I was 13, before scrapbook was a verb. The Christmas cards from the friends I no longer know. The books read by the person I no longer am. The sea glass collected before a different 3,000-mile journey. One that was west, not east; when I was bereft of  options, not flush with anticipation.

In less than two weeks, I won't have a job, or the driving licence I need, or a clue about the correct way to spell or pronounce actual English words. And I'm looking forward to it.