“Moving on, is a simple thing, what it leaves behind is hard.” Although not my usual source for finding uplifting quotes, Dave Mustaine, the founder and lead vocalist for the band, Megadeath (and the creator of this statement) may have just gotten it right. I’ve moved a total of 20 times in my life…19 of those since leaving my parent’s home for college at the ripe old age of eighteen. I’ve lived with a total of 23 roommates (college was a blur of constant adjustment), resided in 5 cities, 2 states and 2 countries, and each time, I may have just left a little part of me behind.
Up until my mid-20’s, I had this overwhelming urge to be anywhere but where I was at any given time. I loved the excitement of a new location, starting fresh with a new attitude and clean slate…the smell of new paint and professionally cleaned carpets…exploring an unknown neighborhood and making it my own…until the next time the bug hit me, and I felt the familiar ants-in-my-pants sensation strike yet again! By the time I was 27, I was over it and ready to call one place home. Life had other plans; however, and I moved a few more times after that. This last big move, though, did a number on me!
An unfortunate victim of the rapidly declining economy, I was laid off at my job in Sacramento in November last year and found employment in Southern California. Not 2 1/2 months later I left all my worldly possessions and traveled back to Northern California to move in with my parents in order to tackle treatment for the cancer. In September, after completing treatment, I moved out of my parent’s home and in with a good friend from church. My current living situation is more than I could’ve hoped for! We get along great…our schedules are just opposite enough to give us some independence but provide us with time to catch up on the events of the day. We’re both laid back enough to not care about the little things, but we have a solid communication that eases us through the bigger issues. She was there for me when I was at my worst and provided me with a change of scenery when I needed a break from my reality. We laugh a lot (mostly at ourselves), we cry together (at silly girl movies) and we are learning from each other’s areas of expertise (Danielle played professional basketball and now trains others and I, well I’ve introduced her to a culture mixed with sappy wedding shows and psychotic thrillers). The best part, though is our mutual love for God and the relationship of accountability we have established.
Last week I was offered a job at my old agency back in Southern California. As of New Years day I received my final payment from disability insurance and the offer of employment couldn’t have come at a better time. All except for the fact that I was oddly devastated at the idea of relocating again. I’m the type that pulls myself up by my boot straps when needed so this overwhelming sense of sadness was quite unsettling. After seeking the counsel of several close friends and family, all whom provided me with different opinions and left me more confused than before, I decided to contact the social worker from my Oncology office in hopes she could shed a little light on the situation.
Apparently I’m still recovering. Apparently there is quite a huge bereavement road I’ve yet to walk. Apparently I took a proverbial nap for the past 11 months and am just now starting to wake up to a whole new reality, a new body…a new me. Apparently I’m not dealing with that as well as I would like to think I am. Apparently while I no longer look sick, my body still needs to do some healing. Apparently if I leave my support system and treatment team and start a new job that has a high level of stress, I may run the risk of putting that necessary healing on hold. Apparently the Oncology Social Worker is a lot smarter than I am! I took her professional advice, opted against financial security and chose to take care of me. Apparently I need to do more of that.
With each past move, I left a little piece of me behind…memories, good and bad; a piece of my heart with every goodbye and a little dash of hope that this would be the final destination. With each move; however, I also took a little something with me…lessons learned; lifelong friendships and a peace that God was with me every undefined step of the way! This weekend I will travel to Southern California to pack up my belongings, clean out my storage and make the long journey back home. And maybe, just maybe, Sacramento will hold onto me for good.
My roomie and me
Did I Shave My Legs For This??? 