End of an Idyl

Tom is gone. He has been working remotely for a consulting company all winter, knowing that they would expect him to move to Richland, Washington at some point. At the end of last week, they called him and asked if he could drop everything and move there immediately. We spent the weekend packing up things for him to take - dishes, sheets, towels, clothes, folding chairs, tables, bookshelves, his bicycle and the old water bed. Then we spent all day Monday taking trips up and down the hill moving all this stuff down to the car with the snowmobile.

After all the moving we did last summer, you'd think we'd be good at this. But it was a day full of disasters. We broke our little tub sled's hitch, got the snowmobile stuck in deep soft snow, ripped the hitch connection on the back of the snowmobile right out of the metal hauling the old heavy sled loaded down with furniture over the bumps in the trail, rolled the snowmobile, lost my gloves and my cell phone in the snow at some point, and had to drive the snowmobile over mud and gravel because the last part of the road down below was melted out. It took about seven trips up and down the hill. We were exhausted by the end of the day. Then it started snowing.
The next morning, there was about six inches of new snow and it was still coming down. I drove Tom down to the car on the snowmobile and he tied the bicycle, shelves, and bed frame onto the roof while I scraped and swept snow and ice off the car. Then we said goodbye, he hopped in the Little Car and drove off down the snowy road.

The cabin is quiet and lonely without him. But if he had to leave, this was a good time. I'll be spending this week cleaning and finishing up end-of-winter tasks. Next week I'll shut off the water and propane again, close up the house, and head to Whidbey Island for the rest of the spring. I'll stop in Richland and visit Tom, then go on to the coast. This spring exodus has been the plan all along - spending some time on Whidbey and visiting my parents in Mukilteo while avoiding mud season here in Montana. But the winter has been so wonderful that it is hard to admit it is over.

When I come back in May, I'll be on my own for the summer construction season. Tom will visit whenever he can, and I'll probably end up taking occasional trips to the Tri Cities to visit him and bring him more furniture once he has a permanent place to live.

For the next couple of years it looks like we'll be back to the long-distance relationship we have had so often over the last 22 years. I'm glad we had this idyllic interlude together in the cabin this winter. It will feel like a different place without him. But knowing how happy he was here, we both will be looking forward to the time when he can return.