This isn't it.
I'll get to it.
So, my little (well, younger) brother is moving to Manhattan. Joe Joe's all grown up now and moving on to big and better things. He actually got himself an internship in the theater sound & tech department at Juilliard. (JUILLIARD people! My brother is going to fucking Juilliard!)
Today I go over to the parents house helping him sort through things and he's tossing everything and we're sorting through stuff and separating. This is going with us, this we hope will fit, this is going into storage.
My parents were supposed to help move, but the dad had knee replacement surgery a few weeks ago so I'm driving with him to NYC tomorrow to help with the "big move." I'm excited for him, and I'll miss him, but I'm mostly excited for him. Living in New York! I haven't really lived with my brother in 11 years - and I've already got a plane ticket to visit in October. I'll see him. I'm not worried.
My mother, on the other hand, is a different story. She's wandering around the house - watching my aunt Cathy make dinner, an alternately appearing in Joe's doorway to stand there looking at us cleaning/sorting and then she'll start crying and she'll wander away and then repeat it over again. She's a mother hen kind of mom - she likes to keep them in the nest.
He's 25. He's supposed to move out.
And my sisters demon kids keep running around and screaming. The big one doesn't like me much and the little one just murmurs at everyone. I'm sure she think's she's talking but it just comes out as "muh muh muh nuh nuh muh nuh aaah bbb"
Then more screaming. Augh, fuck that noise.
So, if you want to see Joe, stop by. Everyone's been popping in and out to say goodbye. Better do it now, van leaves his place at 8am! (well I have to get up at 6am, but we hope to be on the road 8ish...)
Anyway, time to pack and do bills...