Moving

A New Kind of December

/ Luanne Shernisky / 3 Comments

Lying poolside in December and basking in 79 degree sunlight is truly a dream come true. After a lifetime of cold, snowy winters, I decided that I wanted to turn in my sherpa lined boots for flip flops.


Sandman SnowmanAs a kid, I loved sled-riding, building snow forts, and ice skating. The frigid temperatures never bothered me and snow days off from school were the icing on the cake!

Fast forward 30+ years and things have certainly changed. The only winter sports I engage in now involve clearing snow from my car and successfully traversing icy sidewalks and parking lots with the hope of not falling down.

I didn’t believe it would ever happen, until my son and daughter-in-law moved to Florida two years ago. When my daughter joined them this past summer, what had seemed unlikely suddenly became a possibility.

Aside from wanting milder winters and more sunshine, there were other things pushing me to move:

  • I  finally earned a college degree and was eager to find employment that would reward that effort both personally and financially. Good jobs in small towns aren’t plentiful, so I would have to consider moving anyway.
  • I spent the last three years helping mom care for my dad who had dementia. He passed away last March, but my mom has grown increasingly dependent on others, in addition to suffering several falls. As the child living the closest, I would (once again) be the main caretaker. This would force me to remain in my current job, for the foreseeable future, without any chance of personal growth.
  • The relationship with my significant other was comfortable in some ways, but after nine years I needed a commitment for more than a dating relationship. Because he was dealing with issues of his own, I believed our future was limited.

So, I side-stepped all my fears and left. I’m currently job searching and am being somewhat particular about which ads I answer. I want my choice of prospective employers to be the right one. I’m enjoying the time off with blogging and other projects that I never found time to do. Lately, I feel guilty about not applying to more positions.

My mom is living with my brother and his wife, which is a much safer situation for her, since he works from home. Because I came to Florida she had to give up her house and move, which she’s not happy about. More guilt.

Within two days of telling my significant other that I was leaving to seek new opportunities, he began the process of change that I had been hoping for. Always loving and supportive, he encouraged me to “spread my wings,” but is hoping that I will return to share a new and improved life with him. Yep, you guessed it…even more guilt.

Lying under this palm tree I’m thinking about how happy I am on one level, yet feeling guilty for the above mentioned reasons. Then it struck me:

All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another. ~ Anatole France

I’ve apparently got some self-reflection and work ahead.

My Life in Boxes

/ Luanne Shernisky / 4 Comments

Moving is a lot of work, but packing up your worldly goods and transporting them from point A to point B is fairly straightforward. I wish that had been the case in my situation. My move from PA to FL involved a few “extra” steps:

politifact-photos-Moving_boxes

  • Packing to be ready for the movers on August 28th
  • Coordinating the arrival and unloading of my belongings at the destination on September 1st
  • Designating certain boxes to be first on the truck, so they could be last off the truck, so that I would have easier access to them once they were put in storage
  • Leaving cleaning supplies, vacuum, lights, some tools, and an assortment of other items needed to clean up the apartment until September 2nd, when I had to turn in the keys
  • Moving those items to a friend’s house until my final departure on October 20th
  • Leaving enough clothes, toiletries, computer, and other items needed for day-to-day living until my final departure on October 20th

Of course, there was a lot of other things going on during this time that made it even more chaotic.

  • I had just returned from FL on August 2nd after spending two weeks getting my daughter situated. She accepted a position in Orlando and we had to get her a car and an apartment, so that she was ready to start work on July 27th.
  • My mother had about two doctor appointments each week, from September 1st until the time I left.
  • I was frantically trying to get instructions in place for the person who would take over my job. I was already working a reduced schedule so that I could take mom to her appointments.
  • I was dealing with many emotions during this whole time: guilt, fear, sadness, and excitement to name a few

I spent three weeks packing a two bedroom apartment and at one point it felt like I would NEVER get every single thing packed. I had moved eight years prior and left a lot of stuff behind, but had acquired a few new things along the way. I couldn’t fathom what it must be like to pack an entire house, complete with attic and basement. I couldn’t do it.

Right now me and my belongings are in limbo. I’m living temporarily with my son and daughter-in-law, who graciously invited me to stay with them while I job search. Because this is a new start, I really want to make good decisions. I want to hold out for a job that is truly meaningful. Which job that is, I’m not sure.

Job Search GIF

My son came in from work the other day and asked me if I was keeping busy. I responded, “Oh, yes. I’m busy trying to find myself.”

He reminded me that I’m 54 years old and if I haven’t found myself yet, I probably never will.

But I remain hopeful.

 

 

Mine Your Own Material

/ Luanne Shernisky / 7 Comments

The things we leave behind; there are so many. Some we leave happily by choice and others because we simply have to.

In 2006 I left the home that I raised my children in. I had remained in an abusive marriage far too long, but experienced mixed emotions about leaving. On one hand, I was desperate to get away from an alcoholic husband. On the other, I was leaving 18 years worth of memories behind. A lot of those memories were awful, but the ones of my kids growing up were priceless and far outnumbered the bad ones.

I knew for a long time that day would come, but nothing prepares you for the flood of emotions. Despite believing that it was the only healthy option left, I continued to second guess myself. I was anxious to make a fresh start, but terrified of the unknown. I knew that while familiar things can seem comforting, they can still be very bad choices.

There were so many things I wanted to take, but couldn’t. The roll top desk that we bought early in the marriage, the bookcase from my mother-in-law that housed my favorite stories, and the lighted Christmas village from my goddaughter. These were only a few items of a very long list.

Then there was the house itself. We worked long hours to get it ready and I invested my heart in preparing a nice home for my kids. My boys were one and three years old and my daughter wasn’t born yet. The marriage was already in trouble and I foolishly believed a new house would provide a new start.  Soon after moving in I realized this was pure fantasy.

After my departure, I managed to live without the house and all the things in it. I went on to make a new home that I grew to love, because it was truly mine and I found real peace there. However, it wasn’t until years later that I understood the connection to all the things I left behind.

Every item, large and small, had a memory attached to it.

They reminded me of a person, a place, or a recollection that had value for me. All these things together represented my past; my history.

Despite the bitter circumstances of my exit, I realized something important: we take our memories with us. Even though they’re often attached to inanimate objects, the invisible string that connects them is…well…invisible. It only exists in our minds, just like the memory. Although I no longer had these things in my possession, I could still feel the positive emotions they embody.

Now, when I drive past my old house, I don’t feel the intense sadness and loss that I did in the beginning. It’s just another home in that particular neighborhood. This change was possible because I took the happy memories with me and left the rest behind.