I swear I’m not kidding when I say that it’s literally the 67th dreary day of a new year that is only 70 days old here in the Pacific Northwest. I’m awake in the middle of the night. Isn’t that what one imagines bloggers do? I’m awake because my life is about to get very busy.
I spent the day at a friend’s mother’s home on Lake Washington, helping her work through some paperwork for the purchase of a house. As she and her mom talked I stared out the window, watching the wind whip the rain and the waves toward the house and wondering about this wildly intoxicating region and its one hundred shades of gray.
Fast forward to later that night, as my sons headed off to bed and my husband and I slipped under the sheets, I watched the bedside light click off and then I heard these whispered words, “I got a call today. I got the job on the east coast.” I laughed, and said, “Surely you’re kidding.” “I’m serious,” my husband insisted with a nervous laugh in his voice. I sat bolt upright and simultaneously turned on the bedroom light. Seven months of waiting and wondering if our future lives were to be spent here, and now suddenly, we have less than 100 days to sell a house, buy a house, and move 3000 miles away.
Up until now, I have been writing retrospectively about the many moves I’ve managed. This one will be special for several reasons. First, it will be chronicled in real time, as we go along. Second, we’re moving with teenagers now, which should present some very unique challenges we haven’t faced before. And lastly, we’re going home.