Since returning to the U.S. I have been adrift in a sea of change. Before I could adjust to my jet lag, I attended my nephew’s wedding in Milwaukee the weekend after I flew back to Boston. The travel there proved more challenging than going to and from Europe. The notion that an airline can cancel a flight and you have no recourse is mind-boggling to me. What other service do we pay for that can just cancel with little or no explanation an hour before you intend to use it? Eventually, I was able to make it to the wedding which was beautiful. It is hard to believe my oldest nephew is old enough to be married. Especially when half the time I still feel like I am his age.

Moving is hell. Nothing new there. It is made more intensely hellish if one tries to do it during times of significant stress. We are doing this head on -change overlapping change, overlapping change. Lily has been participating in all of her end-of-the-year, Senior activities which are both joyful and poignant. Matthew has begun working in his new position which is both exciting and nerve-wracking. Parker is finishing middle school and turned 14! James is back in Brunswick doing good work with adults with disabilities and recovering from Covid which he got the first week. I am trying to finish out the school year in two different school districts all while supporting each member of the family as they face the challenges of change whilst also trying to move.

All my life I have feared and avoided change. Change equaled the unknown and the unknown was scary. Now I find myself strangely in a position of seeking change and encouraging those around me to embrace it as freely as I am. How did I become a cheerleader for seeking the new? I think I came to this slowly after 50 years of witnessing the impossibility of avoiding change and hanging onto sameness with an iron grip. I found that avoiding changes eventually felt like being trapped or suffocated and I couldn’t tolerate any more grief from the inevitable losses that come no matter how tightly we cling. I’m over holding on. I have realized that I need to experience new things so that I can continue to feel growth, hope, and love. My relationships are strong and my sense of home is not defined by place as much as my personal sense of belonging and connection to people both near and far.

I find myself in a strange position where I am now consoling those around me who are overwhelmed with all of the change. I am trying to remember how hard change can be for everyone else in my family who has not been on my path. My husband is leaving the home that he has lived in for the longest stint in his lifetime. It is hard. My kids are leaving the childhood home where we became a family in and made so many happy memories. The horizon is bright for all of us but it is hard not to look around our emptying house, see the gorgeous gardens, and feel a bit sad that we are moving on. Even as Matthew and I make rooms for all of our kids in our Brunswick and French residences, I know that our eldest children will from this point forward have primary dwellings outside of these spaces. I have feared the moment of letting go forever and now that it is upon me, I am steadfast in forcing myself forward. I want my children to know my heart is always with them but I am not their responsibility to visit, stay with, or make happy.

I am making myself happy. I will always be their safe place, but I am determined that I am my own. I am changing in so many ways that I hesitate to let myself feel it all for fear I will be overcome. I have planted a tree for each of our children on our current property. The eldest got dogwoods which have been moved twice during our previous upheavals after the divorce and when we moved here. (Thanks to my friend Lance and his equipment). Parker’s apple tree was planted here and has provided us with fruit in recent years. All the trees are growing and thriving at the house we are saying goodbye to. James’s dogwood has always blossomed ferociously and Parker’s has provided us with apples since year one. Lily’s pink dogwood has been less forthcoming always blossoming less than her brother’s. Not this year. Lily’s dogwood has put on a show in honor of her graduation, and perhaps to give us a proper send off as we move on. I am so grateful.