What a blessing it is to have been a part of something that makes saying goodbye so hard.
I’m writing this now on the mattress on the floor of our bedroom—the only place to sit in our house now that is a slight upgrade from sitting on the floor itself.
I’m fighting off just a hint of a cold that’s been threatening over the last week. A mild headache which was no doubt exacerbated by the many many tears shed last night in the arms of friends who have changed our lives forever. I don’t like to cry. I don’t like to be vulnerable in front of people. I like to be the one doing the comforting and the fixing and I generally hide when I feel emotions coming on. Yesterday I WEPT and knew what it was to be held in grief. Oh, the gratitude.
Yesterday was hard. It was beautiful and full and significant—but it was really hard. Waves of grief would hit throughout the day, alternating with waves of self-inflicted disassociation (in order to do my literal job, lol) Some waves being mere seconds apart from each other.
It’s always hard to say goodbye to a show—but we were here for almost 6 years. This wasn’t just a show. This was our community. Our family. This was the life that filled our days for years. The opportunity to work in collaboration with people to create beautiful art—it binds you together forever. And knowing that most of them will continue on to create new art—art I will not know or be involved in—it’s a bizarre and foreign thought. There’s no jealousy by any means. I have no regrets and am fully confident that we’re walking the path we’re supposed to—but it’s definitely strange.
Yesterday I turned in my parking pass and badge to the building. I don’t work at Sight and Sound anymore. I don’t have a dressing station, or a “track,” or costumes, or wigs, or access to the building.
Yesterday I walked out the wrong door by mistake and turned around to re-enter—only to realize that the back of my phone (which has held my badge for years) wasn’t going to provide that all-too-familiar “beep,” admitting me back in the way I came. I walked around the building to my car. It wasn’t sad so much as potent.
I expect to feel more and more over the coming weeks. I think my brain is micro-dosing the processing as to not incapacitate me from actually getting the work done that we’ve committed to this week. We leave in a week and have a series of loose ends to tie up between then and now.
Yesterday was the necessary end that needed to precede this new beginning.
When I was a little girl, my parents wanted me to stop using pacifiers (what I affectionately called “bobbies”) Mom had me collect all my 8 pacifiers in a little bag, took me to Toys-R-Us to pick out a Barbie, pre-paid for it with the cashier, and prepped her to ask for “8 bobbies” in exchange for my new barbie. Essentially turning my pacifiers into a form of currency.
Despite working towards this for two years, the idea of being full-time travelers has felt like an idea or a concept more than a reality—until this morning. I got used to our routine. Our gym. Our community. Our jobs. Our cars. Our furniture. Our kitty. Our house. Our people. Our comforts. Our “bobbies.”
Bit by bit, all those things that were “ours” are going away. Like God took us to Toys-R-Us and invited us to choose our new adventure—but we have to exchange our bobbies. These comforts have served us well over the last 6 years, but we can’t have both. And as hard as it is to turn in all these beautiful comforts, I stand by the decision if it means we get to “buy” a brand new adventure from God’s toy store.
It’s not all been an immediate exchange, but yesterday was certainly a very big one. We had a huge 2-day estate sale a few weeks ago. We sold Kyle’s Jeep on Monday. Our furniture was all picked up for donation yesterday. I voluntarily said a final goodbye to my performance job and many friends last night. We have a video interview in an hour to work at a farm in Portugal in March. I turn 31 tomorrow. We get my final paycheck on Friday. We have a little goodbye party in our empty MIL suite on Saturday. I sell my car next Monday. We say goodbye to Luna and our home next week. We’ll drive to visit family for a few weeks and then leave for South Africa at the beginning of February.
I’m really grateful we have eachother, Kyle and I. This would be a lot harder alone and I commend the many travelers that do it.
I can’t think of any nicely poetic way to end this post and I’m too emotionally exhausted to brainstorm one that would make any sense, if I’m honest.
Thank you for coming along with us on this adventure, friends. We’re so grateful for you. And despite the general melancholy tone of this post, we really are so excited and grateful. Happy New Year. <3
-Cat
Love this so much. And so much of it is wildly relatable. Especially in this field. Love you guys tons and so thankful to know both of you. I’m so excited to follow along as you adventure together with the Lord. ♥️
Proud of you, friend! It takes bravery to choose a path other than what society deems “normal.” You will never regret taking this leap. You got this!!!