It is often said that life is a series of peaks and valleys; our job is simply to trudge along and know that everything will even out in the end. If that’s the case, I’m due to ascend Mt. Everest pretty soon, or so I’d like to believe. I truly hate to complain, but our drawn-out move from Pikes PEAK to the Central VALLEY has not been without some serious struggle. Just when we thought we had reached the end of this saga, it seems only to have just begun.
First, I do not mean to imply that everything about living in Colorado was great or that everything about living in California is not; I am simply using a metaphor to represent the bigger picture. Colorado Springs was a place we loved where we had lots of great friends, job security x2, and a house we adored. It seemed as though we were ‘at the top.’ We sacrificed all of those things to move to California for a job I LOVE. We have great friends here, but we have yet to make any new connections. It will likely be a while before we feel ready to purchase another house. Andy’s uncertain employment future looms over us like a storm cloud. We have truly landed in a valley (after hitting every branch on the way down), and we will be climbing out of it for quite some time.
My job is amazing. I have learned more than I could have imagined in my first year, and I feel genuinely excited to face each day. I had anticipated missing teaching more than I have to date. Beyond a twinge of sadness each time I visited TCA, the challenges of my new job have been fulfilling and rewarding enough to keep me happy.
Our house has been a real sore spot throughout this move. We have (finally) sold it, and I should definitely be thankful for that. I find it particularly difficult to celebrate losing more money on the sale than I make in a year. If it were only about money, it would be simple. Our feelings about that house stem from my own incessant need to plan ahead. Although we certainly didn’t need 3,700 sq ft when we purchased the home, we had absolutely imagined ourselves living there long enough to need more than just the master bedroom. We invested our time, money, hopes, and dreams into that house. Walking away from it, we’re losing more than just money – it’s as if a part of our dream for the future is also gone. We will, undoubtedly, purchase another home at some point. We will probably even still carry out the dreams we had made for ourselves. Right now, though, I can’t help but mourn the loss of my first house and the memories and lost potential it holds within its walls. Oh, and I’ll be pretty pissed about losing all that money for a while, too.
This latest phase of the move, in which we emptied our Colorado house of everything we had collected in our nearly 5 years living there, did not go very well. We had grossly underestimated the amount of ‘stuff’ we had left at the house and had to change our moving plan mid-packing. As if we needed any more complications, I ended up with a fractured ankle from missing a few stairs while moving furniture. I could not have happened at a worse time. Coupled with the stress of the end-of-school insanity and the emotion of leaving a place and people we love, packing/moving was really too much for Andy. I had already been gone for a year, but it was more difficult for me to see Andy going through it, knowing that he was only having to leave because of me. It was particularly gut-wrenching to see him deliver his speech at graduation. His reception by the students, parents, and faculty demonstrated the impact he has had on the community. Rather than reassuring me that he would be able to pick up and make that same impact at a school in California, seeing those difficult goodbyes made me kick myself for putting him in a situation where he would have to start over. Again. For me.
We’ve made the difficult decision for Andy to move to California without having any leads on employment. We have told ourselves that we are prepared for the possibility (and probability) that he will be unemployed or under-employed beginning in September. I laugh when I think about how convincing I can be to myself. I’m not sure if anyone is able to truly prepare for something like that. We were not willing to repeat a year of separation, and this was our only option.
Andy and I have been ‘back together’ for nearly a month. I had no expectation that this process would be easy, as nothing involving the move has been that way. I am willing to admit, though, that I did not understand how much our relationship suffered in the year we spent apart. We haven’t lost anything that can’t be recovered in time, but we are currently operating on what seems like two different planets. We are both grasping for ‘normal’ and are hopelessly flailing as we try to keep ourselves from drowning in the challenges that lay before us.
On this, the 6th anniversary of our wedding, I find it ironic that I’m in a hotel in Los Angeles while Andy is on the mountain. It serves as a metaphor for our life right now – even though we’re ‘back together,’ we’re miles apart in so many ways. I do miss the simplicity of our life before all of this chaos began, but I have no regrets about anything we’ve done in the past 12 months. It’s difficult to fully appreciate what you have until you find yourself in a different position. Between tears and arguing every night, we find time to tell each other something we’re thankful for that day. It’s too easy to focus on the negatives. We have found that the simple act of voicing what we’re thankful for has fostered more optimism and the realization that all of our current challenges are temporary. We will persevere.
Years from now, we will probably be able to laugh at ourselves and everything that has happened recently. My relationship with Andy will likely be stronger at the end of this ordeal, and I would be willing to relive this year ten times over, if only for the benefit of growing as an individual and as a couple. For now, I’m thankful to have a job at a place that so positively influences kids’ lives and equips them to deal with life’s obstacles. I’m also grateful to have had such a fun training week with staff and am excited to watch this group of counselors pour their hearts into their campers.
What are you thankful for today?
