I’m thinking about moving again.
It’ll be the second move I’ve made in a decade. After living in Boston for more than 30 years, I relocated to San Francisco to be closer to some of my adult children. Although all five were born in Massachusetts, none of them still reside in the Commonwealth. One is in New York; the others are in California.
When child #5 started contemplating a cross-country move while still in high school, I made the preemptive decision to pack us both up and head west. After all, if he moved and I stayed, who would shovel the snow for me?
I had to push through the fear
The decision to move wasn’t difficult, but it was scary. I’d lost the sense of adventure my kids now had. Too much life experience made me reluctant to take a risk. I wish I could combine the wisdom of age with the courage of youth.
Courtesy of the author
It was knowing I’d be close to my children that propelled me to push through the fear. In fact, push through the fear became the mantra I repeated continuously as I sorted through decades of stuff and used a push broom to sweep the detritus from the attic floor.
Our time together was short-lived
I was so happy when we first moved. I was spending a lot of time with two of my older sons and my youngest was reconnecting with his brothers who because of age and distance had missed a lot of his growing up. My daughter, who was attending college in Santa Barbara, visited frequently. Sadly, it didn’t last.
Within a couple of years, the two sons who’d preceded me to the Bay Area were moving again. Apparently, it’s not unusual for Gen Zers and millennials to move often. That’s not something I’m inclined to do.
Honestly, if I had my way we’d build a family compound where I’d reign as the matriarch, hosting elaborate family meals at expansive dining tables each Sunday just like I’d seen in some Italian movie. They really know how to do family in Europe.
It’s not easy being near all my kids
I imagine it’s easier for the mother of one to settle close to her child. It’s a bit trickier when there are five. If I were still married, I’d likely have stayed in Boston with my husband and expected our kids to come to us, but that’s not my life. I’m the single mom who wants to remain tethered to my offspring.
For as long as I can remember, my life has revolved around these children, and I can’t picture not being an integral part of their daily existence. As fully formed adults, they no longer need me as they once did, although recently one of my sons told me that he misses the days when I’d wake him up in the morning, tell him what to wear, and feed him.
Gone are the days when I was the queen of their universe, yet I’m unwilling to be a distant planet. I feel the gravitational pull toward all of them, and that’s my dilemma. That one son who stayed back East is married now and the father of my two grandchildren. I love spending time with my grandchildren, who are growing up too quickly. I know I’m welcome to visit anytime for as long as I like, but what if I lived nearby?
I scroll through real estate apps constantly, looking at houses in New York, but I’m not sure I really want to go back there — at least not yet. After all the years of full-time mothering, I can honestly say my job is done. Now it’s time to figure out who I am and what I want.
