As promised, photos of graduation! This son has accepted a job in Boston. He had two good offers and agonized over which to choose, and finally picked one. They were equally good opportunities. After stressing over getting any offers, he was happy to have choices.
I'm grateful beyond measure that we have another one off to a good start to adulthood.
Meanwhile I am having buyer's regret over our decision to move to Texas. This second-guessing happens to me frequently, and I keep telling myself we are making a fine decision; everything will be fine. We will be able to buy a house and send our kids to Catholic schools. We'll be closer to family. It's a great job for my husband.
But now that we've made this decision, I feel like I wasn't fully considering how easy it is to live here. Suddenly, the sun seems brighter, the people seem friendlier, our friends are closer, biking to the library and school seems even more delightful, the parks are more joyful, the school seems better, and it seems crazy to move a rising senior in high school. I love my job and my friends and my kids' friends. I love being near the ocean and the commissary. We are close to where two of our older kids have landed. And we are so close to the mountains! I love that the kids walk to school and bike to the beach and get ice cream on Orange Avenue. It is a charmed life.
I think I have place attachment disorder. For years, I fed myself a narrative of "This is a temporary home, so I better not acknowledge what is great about it." And I said over and over that I didn't want to stay here forever. I let myself be irritated by tourists and traffic and the quirks of our rental home instead of fully enjoying the easy way of life. Now I am questioning whether we could have figured out a way to make it affordable to stay here. What is worth spending money on? Should we have tried to find a two bedroom condo to buy for $1.5 million? (The only thing less than $1million for sale right now is a 1 BR condo on the corner of the two busiest streets on the island, and it's $900,000.) Should we have continued to rent? Taken a contractor job for three more years to get the kids through high school?
I have another Navy friend who said she thinks she has moving PTSD. There must be some name for the condition. Moving when I was seven was a life marking event. I felt new for a long time. I am beginning to feel too old for starting over and recreating myself again. I wonder if I will ever feel settled. I always miss the last place more than the one before- so the next place should be better! But I don’t love it till I’m leaving. I’m afraid I am the kind of person who makes a hell of Heaven rather than a Heaven of hell, even though I desire to be the opposite.
Perhaps if we were going somewhere like the mountains of middle America - the Rockies, or east to the Shenandoah, the Ozarks, the Smokies, the Appalachians, - or one of the small, college towns I made up in my imagination, I would feel more settled in our decision. But I fear that we are trading down.
Fear is the operational word. I fear for the kids, I fear starting over, not finding a niche, having to drive everywhere. I fear not finding a house - the market is crazy and the houses are not our style. I fear the heat! I fear missing out on everything here. It was fear of not finding another job that made me agree that this was the way to go. What I need to do is find things to look forward to.
The high schoolers aren't really crying about it. They seem to have accepted it. Last night at the track banquet, I almost cried because the coach said about three times to Claire, "Are you sure you have to go?" But she smiled and laughed. She's written nice essays for the two schools we are trying to decide between. Our older son is sending his football highlights video to coaches at these two schools that we can't decide between. The youngest child is the one who seems the most sad to go. She has cried several nights in a row. She does have a dramatic flair, and she has never had to move, so there's that. But she also has wonderful little friends and a fairy tale house and a great park and library. She keeps saying she wants to come back for her first communion. I think we have to make that happen. Or maybe her second or third.
For now I've got to step forward and keep moving. In ONE WEEK our oldest son will be getting married! This date seemed so far away for so long, and now we are starting to pack. How have I been caught off guard? Can I list the to-do items? I have to decide between 5 dresses, I don't have shoes yet, and I have to hem the girls' dresses and boys' pants. I also don't have a gift or a card, but I think we are giving them furniture. I've got to stop wallowing in self pity and move forward to help them have a wonderful, memorable, love-filled day. So writing this is my way of tabling these emotions for a couple weeks.
My husband is a saint for putting up with me. Did I mention we just celebrated our 25th anniversary? With everything else going on, we just got Thai food at the restaurant down the street. He gave me silver earrings and a ring from the local jeweler, and I gave him a print by a local artist. We're planning to celebrate with a trip at some point, (maybe we'll come back here!) but for now I'm grateful that he puts up with my mood swings and indecision and anxiety. Many thanks to the Lord for getting us this far!
