Monday, February 2, 2009

Leaving Southern California

My time here in Southern California is coming to an end. Next Sunday I'll begin my drive back to Oklahoma and my new life in a house instead of the small motorhome. To say I'm excited to be going back would be an understatement. However, to say I don't have mixed feelings about it would be an even bigger understatement. Half the time my stomach quivers when I think of what I'm doing: moving to an area where I have only a few friends, no relatives, and almost no idea of what I'm going to discover about myself.


Most people start from scratch at about age 18 or so, renting their first apartment or house, finding furniture at a thrift store or cadging from friends or family. They begin their first job, making little money. I've been there, done that, a LONG time ago. Between then and now, I've lived in and owned quite a few houses, some of them quite large. I've bought furniture, some of it excellent quality and fairly expensive. I've lived with two husbands (not at the same time) and raised a family. And, I've also sold and given away almost everything and moved into this motorhome.



Life on the road has been almost always fun--at least an adventure--for the past two years. But now it's time to settle down again. It's that little voice inside telling me it's time for a change. And I've learned to pay attention to that little voice as it's usually always right.


But, during the past few weeks I've found myself close to tears many times when I think about what I'm doing, where I'm going, how many people I'll be leaving behind here. I know I'm doing the right thing for me at this particular time. I'm moving to a place where the cost of living is much, much lower than Southern California, where I just cannot afford to live any longer. I have a wonderful long-time friend whom I'll miss more than he can possibly ever imagine. I don't know when we'll see each other again or what situation we'll both be in if/when we do get together. And that makes me very, very sad. Yet, I need to do this.


I'm leaving my mother behind here in her own home where she's lived for many, many years. That is also going to be hard. Yet, I need to do this. I'm leaving behind several other friends whom I will also miss. And yet I need to do this.



For what it's worth, I can only hope that things will work out well for everyone. I feel good about the move. And yet the tears continue to flow, as I'm sure they'll do for quite a while.

5 comments:

Old Newsie said...

Leaving Mother behind certainly is traumatic but you can always think of a yearly plane trip back to see her.
Leaving friends behind can be sad but thre's always a telephone or e-mail to continue your friendship. And then there's traveling friends whom you'll be able up there in Bartlesville, Oklahoma, to talk with when they might be in the area and looking for a night's lodging - like Yarntanger for instance, or even Old Newsie.
They say the folks in Bartlesville a friendly, folks, so, you've got a pool of future friends, unknown right now, but when you meet your next door neighbor, the friend train will begin!

diana said...

Hey Chris, the title of your blog sure fits with today's post! Sounds like the best of all worlds, new friends in OK, old friends in CA and the freedom to have both. My best on your new adventure!

Chuck said...

Sounds like a super move to me. Been following your blog as a result of the Express/Amazon forum at Workamper.

5thWheelWoman said...

I thought this was a nice quote and speaks to your situation ...

"Don't be dismayed by good-byes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends."
Richard Bach

Yarntangler said...

You will not lack for friends because you are a friend. I'm not ready to leave the road yet. But I sincerely meant it when I told you that if I need an imaginary house fix it will be your quirky little house in Bartlesville.