Monday, September 2, 2019

Four Months

We left DC four months ago and I've delayed and dragged my feet on writing some kind of conclusion to that experience. I've finally realized there is no perfect way to wrap it up. Every day spent there, every experience shared is something that Scott and I and our kids will carry with us. It's left a mark on my emotionally and physically that I'll forever carry and I think the experiences speak for themselves. My words and photos will never truly convey the impact of that almost three year adventure.

Coming back to the exact place we left is strange. It was hard to leave, and was the benchmark for any new comparison, and now, my world lenses simply feel like my optometrist clicked the better view. I don't think I was living in a bubble before, but probably to some degree. If I took anything away from this entire experience it was this-take the leap, whatever that leap may mean in your life. Perspective gaining, personal growth, boundary pushing--I grew in ways I didn't know I needed to. Big decisions will always be tangled with, but this move became my new benchmark for agonizing pros and cons lists. Previously it had been jumping out of a plane. I don't plan on one-upping my cross country move while pregnant scenario.

People move away from home all the time. What made it feel unusual to me, was that most of our family and friends and even neighbors grew up and remained close to home, at most within a day’s time of driving distance, or a short flight away. When my husband asked me how I felt about him taking a job with the government, I thought, well Sacramento is in the other half of the state, but, sure why not, thinking nothing would come of it and that whatever application he submitted went into a digital blackhole. When he clarified it meant Washington, D.C., I raised my eyebrows, shocked, but shrugged it off thinking, sure, at the rate government jobs move we’ll revisit this conversation in about 12 months. Well, joke’s on us, because it was approximately three months later that we made the decision to move to our family across the country. We packed up our belongings, rented our house, bade tearful goodbyes with our families, and my husband set out early on the last Monday of September, armed with essentials that wouldn’t fit in our shipping containers--primarily, our two cats. My three-year-old son and I remained at my in-laws until our one-way flight, that Friday, September 30, 2016. I’ll never forget that day, leaving them behind at security, and holding the small, still slightly chubby hand of my son, and having tears streaming down all of our faces as we joined the security queue. I was also eight months along with a high-risk pregnancy and no doctor lined up on the east coast. I have to imagine some of those tears were out of pure WTF are we/they doing packing up in and leaving everything at this moment in time?!?

Spoiler alert-there’s a very happy ending. Our family made deep and wonderful connections. I made it my mission to know my neighbors-it was natural to me coming from a place where I hung out in my front yard every afternoon and chatted with fellow residents. We connected with families. My son went to kindergarten and played in his first t-ball league there. My daughter's first story time was at the Library of Congress.

While I enjoy being back and so close to family and friends and a somewhat familiar routine, I miss the friends that brought energy and intimacy to my days. I miss the landscapes of monuments, high rises, and the Capitol and National Mall but also the flora and fauna of living on the border of wilderness. Upon returning, I initially experienced boredom without having the sense of adventure and exploration that a new and very fast-paced city brought on the daily (and I say this whilst living in Disneyland’s backyard and in a fantastic neighborhood. It’s a weird kind of culture shock) and resuming a life that feels like I hit the pause button binge-watching my own life. As nice as it is to “come home”, it was also extremely hard to leave it-both times. 

The idea of home used to mean the single-family home we’d buy and live our forever life in. I’ve come to realize that life is much too short for me with that as my end goal. The world is worth exploring. Our country is worth exploring. Perhaps I’m now sounding like some high, know-it-all, self-help evangelist, but I hope not. This is simply my story and for those who have followed along, I feel like I owe you as much as myself some kind of reconciliation of our DC volume.

I'm not sure what is next for us six, nine months down the line. There's potential for another out-of-state move. I have mixed feelings as our kids get older, and wanting them to have a sense of consistency with school, friends, and family. I know it will work out because we are fortunate to have options and an extremely supportive family.

We came for the adventure, the excitement, a chance to try something new. We left with a lifetime of memories and more importantly, friendships that gave us community and truly made the epicenter of the United States feel like home.