I’ve lived in the countryside my whole life, other than my year in Prague, a couple of years in Sacramento (hell), and in Provo, UT, while in school. I lived in dreamy little villages other than that. But long-term town life has not been a reality for me. I have avoided it like the plague.
Much to the disagreement of those who do not truly know me, I am an introvert. I am just socially adept… and friendly, which confuses people. I like people for a little while, then I like to go home, where it is quiet, there is wide open space and I can breathe with my land and my trees…oh, and talk to the sweet birds that visit at the feeders.
I have a relationship with the land I have raised my kids on. I have planted many trees, including a full orchard of fruit trees, all of which are beautifully large and strong now. Even the oak tree finally grew, after 8 years of babying. The land has held many, many tears of mine. It has also absorbed buckets of sweat, dripping from my body during mid-summer day weeding time (while the kids were resting). I have never, ever NOT loved being where I am. It has housed giant flower gardens, where my daughters and their friends have taken the sweetest of sweet pictures of themselves, surrounded by a sea of zinnias. cosmos, and bachelor’s buttons.
Yes, the acres of grass are unruly and messy. Yes, the weed eater never works well enough. Yes, the violets, dandelions, and plantain have overtaken the yard. And yes, there are bugs…lots of bugs. And this is saying nothing about the mice.
But, it’s my mess. It’s always been my mess, really. Even though the courts told me that it was basically “his”, and I would pay more than I could afford to get his name off the lien, I have always felt like it was mine…and the kids’.
The memories of the mud baths in the dirt pile, the mud pies with flower petal decorations, their magic potions made with all of the herbs in the herb garden, the birthday parties, and our crazy years of “Olympic games”, while we were studying ancient Greece. All of these memories and so many more live there.
No matter, we are leaving it for a while…two years or so. I need to finish grad school and cannot manage the property alone. I also don’t want to be a burden on anyone else, to that degree. I have asked for enough help these past 21 years while making up for a very absent husband. I’m too tired to keep asking.
So, to solve a problem before it begins to be a problem, I will be renting out my house. Sure, I have cried oceans as I have gone to sleep, and upon waking. I already ache for the sound of the birds in my giant sugar maple right outside the window. I love how the sunset lighting comes in through the sheer drapery. So much about this place, I love.
But, the furniture will have to go. Some will go to my daughter, who is moving off campus. She will tell me what she wants. The rest, I will give away or store at my parents…hopefully. Someday, I will be back. I cannot imagine living in town for the rest of my life. But, the top priority of financial survival must be respected. And two years…I can do two years, right?
Yesterday, I learned of a family who was moving into town. They are coming in from Idaho, are Mormon, have four children, homeschool, have lived in the country before, and cannot wait to have chickens and gardens. They want to do 4-H and take animals to the fair. It’s almost like I am seeing myself, 15 years ago.
The mom and I talked last night. She agreed that I am not asking for too much, that they will care for the land, they will allow me to use the farm lane to access my berries, flowers, and the back acre, so my kids and their friends can shoot their guns. It seems perfect. It seems even better than I would have dared ask for.
Today, we meet. Today, I will try to get it through my thick skull that this is really happening. I will try to wrap my head around telling my extended family about my NOT living there anymore…for a while. I will try to see my moving in with my sweet, generous man, NOT as a failure, but as an opportunity to do what I need to do for myself and for my family.
All will be well. It is, already. I just need to keep reminding myself that this is Adulting 510…where we give up something we treasure for something else. It is temporary. I can do this.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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