88 Day Challenge, Day 47/88

A Day for Writing

The Moving Life - Part 2

Considering how important stability had become in my life,  it's surprising to me how much I've moved around in my adult life.  Granted there have been periods of long time stability but that was entirely due to rearing a son and a daughter and my strong determination for them to have a settled young life. 

However, in late 1967 I wasn't there yet but my emergence  of teenage rebellion finally arrived at the age of 19.

We lived in an area of San Diego about 25 minutes from downtown.  I moved in with my first roommate, a woman in her 20s, into a 2-bedroom house in the area known as North Park. 

By that time I had found a circle of friends of which she was one.  I only lived with her for a year because soon after we met I also met my first husband.  That marriage was a great mistake and led to four more moves between 1969 and 1972.  It seemed my life was running true to form.

But, by 1973 that marriage was behind me and its aftermath frozen me into immobility.  Finding myself free to ask important questions and get my life on track again, I again found out how fragile a circle of friendship can be.  Social isolation and grief can be crippling and lead one off into many and varied directions.  In my case, the directions were aimless.  At a time when I was free to pursue dreams and just explore, I was paralyzed by fearfulness.

In 1975, I moved again, leaving San Diego behind me.  I moved to a little mountain town in Southern California and thought "This is it".  By the end of summer,  I was leaving again.  Funny, not funny, how other people's lives can blow up and take out others with them.  And I moved again, fortuitously this time. 

Living in Riverside, CA was the doorway to my life today.  I graduated from university, met my, to this day, best friend, and met my husband of 47 years. Not too bad for a two year period. 

By 1978 I committed to trying marriage again. What followed was two local moves and then in 1980 we made the big leap to San Jose, CA and Don finishing college there.  Then a move to Modesto in '85 and settling into our first home.  There began ten years of stability but Don's work changes and he was living out of town.  After that, in 1996, we moved to Turlock where I worked and the kids were attending school.  Day to day life got a lot simpler.

We lived in Turlock for 21 years. We had two wedding, two grands, embraced retirement, and settled in for the rest of our life.  And then life happened. Again.

Late one Sunday night our daughter drop by and in one breath said, I'm pregnant again and we're moving. Well . . .

And just like that, life turned on a dime. They were moving to Tennessee.  No way was I going to be two time zones away from our grands. It was bad enough that our son lived in Indiana. We knew staying in California was no longer an option.

When we moved to Don's childhood home in Missouri in 2017, I was 69 and he was 73.  We will be 77 and 81 before the end of the year, and, yes, we will be moving again. All the reasons for being in his childhood home were either accomplished or didn't matter anymore. Yes, we've made some strong connections here but the call of being closer to our grands is irresistible.  And the bonus is that we'll be an hour closer to our son and his wife in Indiana.

Spring is approaching. The house will go on the market. With God's grace and mercy, we won't have a long wait for a buyer. Then it will be our/MY last move with Central Tennessee the end of my long and rambling road.