Part I: Departure

(Warning: Long Post)

In 1812 at the height of his power, Napoleon Bonaparte blitzed into Russia with nearly 800,000 troops and quickly captured Moscow. The Russians responded by burning their spiritual capital to deprive the French of winter quarters. The French limped home under smothering Russian cannonades. The once-proud Napoleon returned bruised and humiliated with less than 40,000 soldiers.

While I’m not Emperor of the World, I couldn’t help but compare my time in Cleveland to Napoleon’s disaster each time I climbed the frozen ramp into our ABF trailer. I came to this town having matriculated into a good law school, getting a coveted job at a respectable firm, and I had a hot wife. But there I was, my frozen fingers dragging my pride into a moving van, one box at a time.

Our trailer arrived on Tuesday, January 3rd. An impressive number of brethren from the ward showed up that night to cart out our embarrassingly large amount junk. (If anyone is wondering: Joe likes to throw things away, Jenny likes to keep things just in case we need it in the future, even if the likelihood of needing it is remote.) Molly Huang was kind enough to watch our hoodlums during the load-in.

Jenny was primarily in charge of packing things into boxes, and I packed those boxes into the trailer. This division of labor generally worked well, except that Jenny accidentally packed my underclothing in a dresser that got placed at the very front of the trailer. It wasn’t a very cool week for me.

On Wednesday night the Garn and Julie Smiths brought us a dinner—a wonderfully scrumptious dinner. On Thursday night the Jason and Bridi Waites invited us over for another amazing meal.

Thursday was Logan’s and Madi’s last day of school. At the end of the day, Logan’s close friend, Gavin, painted a picture and gave it to Logan, instructing him to put it in a place where Logan could see it every day to remember him by. The farewell was accompanied by five hugs. Another girl was in tears.

Friday morning came. We loaded up our air mattresses and travel items into our van. We called ABF and had them pick up our trailer. (Turns out we needed two extra feet, for which ABF did not charge us the extra $150.) We drove away to say a few more goodbyes around town.

Then we pulled back up to the house to give it one more farewell. We stared—speechless—at this house we loved, this neighborhood we prized, at a backyard that would never again see our kids kick a soccer ball in it, and into a large front window that will never fill with three children smiling back at me as I come home from work.

I didn’t expect to leave this way. I came to conquer, and I leave conquered. But what’s important is that I am leaving with what’s most important: my family.