It’s Been A Long Strange Trip
One year ago today, we were on the road to our new adventure in Colorado. I had lost my job with a community college in Missouri, and gotten a job doing the same thing in the state I love. It was considerably less money, and the job was in no way a guarantee, but I couldn’t not take the chance.
All I remember of this day a year ago was the mad rush to pack the rest of the things into the moving truck, including our beds, the plants, a mountain of dirty laundry, and the last of the food. Klown was madly trying to finish the cleaning in the house while I was hugging neighbors goodbye and worrying about us getting out of town so late.
Then we were off. I still marvel that The Perfect Child, less than a week after getting her license, drove a car with no air conditioning, and a lawn mower and Tater’s bicycle strapped to the top, all the way to Colorado. She was a total trooper. I marvel that neither of the cats escaped, barfed, or pooped in my car. I marvel that when we got to our new home, the only snafu is that we didn’t have bath towels where we could reach them in the moving truck.
Things were not perfect, but they weren’t bad, either. The duplex I had rented from afar, sight unseen, wasn’t horrible. But it wasn’t great, either, and we immediately started to plan for a move, even if we had to wait until the end of our lease. Drawers and doors in the kitchen did not work, the refrigerator wouldn’t keep anything cold, the basement that contained two “bedrooms” was moldy and the bedrooms were non-conforming, and the tub caulking in the biggest of the two bathrooms was in such poor shape that we couldn’t use it. There was no air conditioning, there were plenty of leaky windows, and carpet so disgusting I would not walk barefoot on it. But worst case, we only had to stay a year, and I could live with that. I hoped.
I already missed my family, my friends, Ted Drewes, White Castle, and three-dollar-a-gallon gasoline. But I had the mountains, and amazing air, and cool weather, and a job, and my girls and Klown. It was a new beginning. A fresh start. Fifty isn’t too old to try something new, right?
A year later, and I still miss my family, my friends, Ted Drewes, and White Castle. I still have my girls and Klown, and a mountain view every morning on my way to work, or just whenever I turn out of my street. I have a new home, as we left the duplex in April to move into an amazing townhouse with air conditioning and a fireplace and new flooring and a garden and no mold and every bedroom is conforming. All of the drawers and doors in the kitchen work, and the fridge keeps things wonderfully cold.
My job is now permanent, even if I’m not earning what I was earning in Missouri, and we aren’t starving or broke, despite medical setbacks (Klown has had to have two hernia surgeries since early December). The Perfect Child isn’t quite sure she likes it here, but she’s learning to love it. Tater adjusts to anything; she has fit into both neighborhoods easily, and had more friends than she knew what to do with at school. She is thriving.
And so am I. I lost 25 pounds after we moved here, put some back on, but am taking it off again by walking daily at one of the many green spaces we have here. Our town is the biggest small town I’ve ever experienced; we have all the big stores (Penney’s, Kohl’s, Target, Best Buy, Ross, Lowe’s, Home Depot, etc.), a movie theater, plenty of small local stores, lots of mechanics and repair shops, and more thrift stores per capita than I thought could be possible. There are parades all the time, and we have 35 city-maintained parks. I am close enough to the mountains that I can be in them with a five-minute drive. I am far enough from the mountains to be safe from wild-fires and flash floods. I can get to anything I need to get to within 10 minutes of driving. We have an incredible public library, and one of the best police forces in the country.
I don’t regret taking the leap. One of my friends keeps hoping I’ll come back home with my tail between my legs, but that’s mostly because she misses me. I’ll see her and all my friends and family in August when the girls and I drive back to Missouri for a visit. In the meantime, I’m looking forward to a visit from a friend and her daughter later this week, and my mother will visit in September from Florida, and we are doing just fine.
It’s been a strange year-long trip. I still have, and don’t intend to get rid of, anger about how I lost my job in St. Louis. But the truth is, if that had not happened, I wouldn’t be here, now, in a place I love.
