Big moments

As we drove through Oregon City this morning we saw kids waiting for the bus, ready for their first day of school, and it got me thinking about the fact that there are no small moments in life.  Today there are kids rushing through their first day of school, somewhere someone is being born, and someone is dying, and Jesse and I are on our way to Texas.  Obviously we are in the midst of a big moment right now.  All of our worldly possessions are packed up in the truck that we have already driven a few hundred miles across Oregon.  But while I know this is big, it doesn't really feel big right now.  We said goodbye to our families this morning, and there were surprisingly few Cline tears shed.  We all have a reputation for being emotional persons, and I had been looking forward to this day with anticipation of not a little bit of emotion.  Of course, Nana cried, but that goes without saying.
I think that, at least for me, I haven't realized yet that we are never coming back.  I was thinking to myself this morning about something that I needed to do when we got back and to remind myself that this isn't a trip.  As we were pulling out of Payette, ID after having dinner with Jesse's uncle John, Jesse said "Rianna, we are going to Texas and leaving behind everything we know except for my guns."  I want to say something poetic about the rolling hills, or the big blue skies, or watching our home fade away in the rear view mirror, but our UHaul doesn't have a rear view mirror, and I've read almost 7 chapters of The Hobbit (we didn't like the audio book we got, and it was really hard to hear on my phone, anyway), so I haven't had much time to enjoy the beautiful scenery....which has consisted for a good long time of flat, dry, bushes and power lines.  I feel like we're in Texas already!
I guess what I'm trying to say is that everything is big.  It might not look or feel big, compared to some events in some people's lives, but this is life, and it's the only chance that we have to do little things, so we should enjoy them, and realize that it's big, if only for the fact that it will never be able to happen again.
And that's my poetic/profound moment.