Moving out Amy K. Sorrells 2 years ago Traveled across the state today, something I usually look forward to, the Indiana landscape typically a comfort to my soul. But today the rolling grey sky matched my melancholy.We were headed to the university to move our freshman son out.Wasn’t it just yesterday the sun shone bright as we unloaded his things, shoulder-to-shoulder with other nervous freshmen and nostalgic parents and carts full of mini ‘fridges and shower caddies, saucer chairs and backpacks, hopes and dreams and an entire year stretched out, boundless, before them? What an odd, strange day.What an unwanted, unexpected, and yes, unprecedented day. Like the bare, brown trees, and the great sepia squares of sleeping fields we sped by, all the world feels naked. We filed in,only one helper per student allowed(after sanitizing our hands),to the cold halls of the dorm.How sterile it seemed as we packed and stacked his room up. Thirty minutes flat.Hadn’t moving in taken an entire day? Keys turned in.Space as empty as when we first saw it and filled it.All is not lost, thanksto computers and e-learning. Two semesters will be completed, in spite of it all. But how much this day feels like all the othersof late, without choice, with danger looming.How labile my heart is, changing like the newsby the minute.From Lamentations to Psalms, from truth to fear,from trust to doubtand back again. Spring always comes, like the Lord and His great mercies, right? Joy and the morningand showersand spring raintheyalwayscomeagain,right? I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Wait for the Lord;be strong, and let your heart take courage;wait for the Lord! ~Psalm 27:13-14 Share this:Print On losing Jaxson: a dog storyJune 2, 2022In "dogs"An open letter to survivors in the midst of COVID-19March 22, 2020In "abuse"Quarantine journals: April 23April 23, 2020In "faith"