My daughter’s move to Austin: On to the next phase

My daughter’s move to Austin: On to the next phase

Posted on May 24th, 2024 by Scott Warnock

A few weeks back, my daughter Elizabeth and I made the drive to Austin, Texas, where she was moving after spending her whole life in the Northeast, including the past several years in Philadelphia. She’s starting a new phase.

I wrote about her in this space for the first time on September 24, 2010. She had recently turned 11. Now she is finishing an MS in Clinical Mental Health Counseling from Nova Southeastern, and she’ll complete internship requirements in Austin before launching a professional career.

Two months ago, we flew down to for an initial scouting trip. We followed a whirlwind itinerary of a dozen apartment visits in three days and secured a place.

The Thursday of the big move, I taught my class at Drexel until 11:00, and she wheeled up soon after in her gray Honda Civic. Her little(r) brother met us on the corner with a couple jugs of water and, bid her, geez, an emotional good-bye. “It’s just so sad,” he said, good man that he is.

The car was packed, and I squeezed in my two bags. The plan: Make the two-day drive, arriving at her apartment late Friday night. Wake up Saturday and unload the U-Haul box that would meet us there. Get situated on Sunday. I would fly out early Monday.

As long as we didn’t hit tornadoes, we’d be in good shape.

I should mention that accompanying us would be Griz and Woozy, her two cats. They were to travel in a large dog crate equipped with food, water, and a custom-made cardboard litter box. Two test drives had revealed Woozy hated it all, and nothing changed as we turned south on 95 that morning. He whined. He howled. He clawed. He clambered on poor, calm Griz until Elizabeth thought he might smother his brother.

We hit a massive traffic jam before we even got started–of course!–sitting about an hour near the Philly airport. We would not be able to withstand Woozy’s woes, so we pulled over and decided he would sit in her lap. Bless his little feline heart, but that’s what he did, squirming (almost) not at all for the next 15 hours. A little CBD oil didn’t hurt.

Oh, there was this other thing. Although I’ve had cats most of my life including right now–Mr. Grey and Calvin–I can be allergic to other people’s cats. Maybe especially hers.

Man, I was dying. But I had to dad-up. So I not only fought for life-sustaining air, but I hid it from her so as to not additional strain to the situation.

But, really, the ride wasn’t bad. We played the alphabet game (splitting 1-1). We listened to and discussed podcasts. We listened to “Scott’s Top 100” playlist, which now contains 239 songs. What can I say?: The kid has good music tastes. It would be all fast food. First: A MacDonald’s stop.

We battled our way through Northeast corridor traffic in Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland, and then we hit smooth sailing in Virginia and Tennessee. We arrived at 2:00 a.m. in a sweet, teeny cat-friendly Airbnb outside Nashville. (I should point out she organized all trip logistics. I was just the muscle.)

We awoke at 9:00 on Friday and hit the road again. Chik-fil-A. Then Subway.

Never be glib about tornadoes. Friday, April 26, 2024 was a bad weather day in the Midwest, and while we were south of the real trouble, as we left Arkansas and entered Texas we hit astonishing rain: A local meteorologist we had tuned into said the area received three times as much rain in three hours as the area normally gets in the whole month of April.

Luckily it was daytime and the roads sloughed off the water, but I still had to pull over twice. After more than an hour of intense rain–when would it end, Griz?–the skies cleared. We hit Dallas.

We arrived at her apartment just before midnight after driving 28.5 hours over two days, 24.5 by me while she ably co-piloted. We arrived, and we moved our bags into the apartment. I opened the door at one point…

Griz ran out.

Exhausted, I made a rookie mistake: I chased the dope. She quickly got ahead of me and grabbed the naughty fellow and tossed him back into his new home. He’s been fine ever since.

Then she inflated an air mattress and we zombied out.

Saturday she went to buy things for the new place, and I waited for the U-Haul Box. My friend Andrew–a friendly face in Austin!–brought us Torchy’s Tacos.

It was windy, and we were the last delivery of the day, but I have nothing but good to say about U-Haul. Our box arrived with contents fully intact. It was packed, and then 90 minutes later, it was empty. We were undaunted by her second floor apartment. We hauled. We lifted. We groaned. She and I lugged a sleeper sofa up. We powered up a king mattress.

She can work, and so can I, but, still, I’m getting old! That evening after more fast food–why not?! In-N-Out Burger–I sat diagonally on the sofa in a chiropractically horrific position, hand on one of the hyperallergenic felines, and dissolved into sleep. At some point she pulled out the sleeper sofa for me, and we both slept about 12 hours.

Sunday she got further situated, and I meticulously folded up all of the boxes so some local could re-use them via Buy Nothing. (Our amazing trip to a Waffle House is for another blog.)

She drove me to the airport very early Monday morning, and we parted ways. People asked me if it was emotional. No. We worked hard to get her set up down there, and she’s ready for this change of life. Because of that, so am I.

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Scott Warnock

Scott Warnock is a writer and teacher who lives in South Jersey. He is a professor of English at Drexel University, where he is also the Associate Dean of Undergraduate Education in the College of Arts and Sciences. Father of three and husband of one, Scott is president of a local high school education foundation and spent many years coaching youth sports.