May 1, 2011


As we decide on our future "country" of residence, I am forced to keep all of the swirling anxiety in perspective. I am well. I have my husband (at my feet this moment playing with the dog) home and alive. My children are strong and here (in the next room playing in a fort of chairs and blankets). They are tough kids who we have raised to weather change (they didn't even blink when we told them we might be moving).

I am lucky. I am blessed. When (if) we move, I will take the most important parts of my life with me.

1 comment:

  1. My dad was in the Navy when I was a kid. We moved around a lot. The lessons learned were both good (adaptability) and not-so (it imparted a certain wiftiness, and distrust of permanence.) My husband and I moved from Philly to MN 13 years ago, and we're now in a house I hope to live in forever. I wasn't sure that move WOULD be my last one, but so far, it appears so. Good luck. And breathe.

    Funny benefit: around the fourth year we lived in this house I became seriously overwhelmed by the volume of stuff that had built up, and wondered what was wrong with me that I couldn't manage it. I realized that up till then I usually moved every two or three years, so I had purging built into my life.