Change has a way of revealing who we are at our core. Some people thrive on the excitement and possibility it brings, others adapt out of necessity, and some feel deeply unsettled by it. Moving, especially multiple times, takes resilience and courage. It’s not irresponsibility — it’s a willingness to start over, to chase something new, or to follow where life leads. There’s a quiet strength in that kind of adaptability, even if others can’t always see it.

After years of marriage, I began to sense it — the quiet resistance in him. The way he settled into routine. My judgement. 15 years before he had built two houses on an acreage. One for us and one for my parents who purchased the land. After both parents were gone, I felt the need for a transition and asked him to do some remodeling of their house so we could move. Although, ironically, the idea of moving from the home where we made all of our family memories made me sad. It wasn’t until he moved the cats to the new house while I was working, that I recognized the big decision alone needed the tenderness in the meaningful act that made the new surroundings feel like home. My cats!

5 years later, both daughters were creating their own lives and both had moved away from us. The youngest was newly out of college and setting out to find her right place in the world. The oldest had already built a life in a city four hours away and was starting a family of her own. As fate would have it, a business opportunity presented itself there. It felt as though everything was falling into place…..confirming that this was the right move for us.

Ten years later I was filled with gratitude….the absolute joy of watching our grandsons grow. But, even amidst that joy, something was missing. I wasn’t living in the place where my heart felt at ease. I found myself yearning to return to my roots, to familiar places and faces that had shaped my life. The irresistible pull was welcoming a granddaughter….back home.

After much reflection…with emotions filled with agony, we made the decision to move once more…back home.

ACT 3. Everything came together — the move, the search, the finding of a new place to call home. The tears of sadness linger for the love and laughter we left behind, but tucked safely in the corners of my mind are the echoes of a life will-lived.

It’s taken some time to get settled and to find a rhythm. Today, as I prepared a puzzle table and moved lamps around for just the right light, I paused for a moment in gratitude. Grateful to feel free, to feel at home and to know that all is well enough for me to simply sit in the quiet, listening to the familiar tick of the clock and enjoy the quiet solitude. Let the puzzle angst begin!

Until next time….