Brookfield summer is hot and sunny, we love the house we rented, people are really friendly, Milwaukee is only minutes away and Brookfield library lets you borrow up to 125 books at a time.
It starts with a possibility that opens somewhere else. You fall in love with the idea of this new place, and as love does, you see it through enhancing glasses. Everything is brighter, neater, more colorful.
The place where you are now has made itself discreet. But it is there, holding your hand. It is the road you know by heart, that winks at you when you have to look. The doctor that remembers the name of your children. The neighbor that calls in because your gate is open. The restaurant with that dish you like. The parking spot that always waits for you. The light switches that move to your hand if you are awake at night.
You will not have that where you are going. All roads will be unknown, all similar and shouting for attention. You will have to find a new doctor, and meet your neighbors, and try new restaurants. Parking spots will ignore you and the light switch will play hide and seek.
It is going to be exciting, interesting, playful. And tiring, so tiring that you will not have time to miss what you had, fully alert to your new reality.
Then comes a day when patterns and familiarity start to form. Most parts of the road are silent, a new doctor number has found its place in your phone. Your neighbor says hi, there is a parking spot you can rely on, the light switch is moving around less.
You think you have made it, you are happy, this is the right place.
Until you miss a turn and get lost, your doctor is on holidays, your neighbor is busy with family over, there are construction works on your parking spot, you wake up at night and don’t remember where you are.
You miss the old place, it was better before, this was a mistake.
You try to call, you try to visit, you compare, you tell others how good it was, you are mourning a loss.
As days go by, silent roads form a net, connecting the dots. A doctor replacement is now on your phone book. You have lunch with your neighbors family. You know there are more parking spots behind the construction works, you can find the light switches before the count of one.
Next Monday the movers are coming, they will empty our house and put our things on their way to Wisconsin. We will fly a few weeks later. We will have spent 3 years in Lamorlaye, France. I wanted to declutter as much as possible but time is ticking, and it is more fun to meet friends, drink wine and eat pains au chocolat, baguettes, fromage … I feel like I have disappointed Marie Kondo.
In the garden we had a rose. Plants that survive me deserve special attention. I am really bad at gardening. My father would have liked it.
I went to Paris, walked for hours around the city, stopped at WMSmith, and had lunch with a friend at Les Tuilleries. It is hard to say goodbye. It was grey, it rained, still beautiful.
I am excited that I am going to start working with a coach. Automattic gives me that chance and I am planning to make the most out of it. Moving to another country is an opportunity to reflect, change and grow.
I have been reading Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder. I really liked the first 300 pages, learning about the pioneers, the Homestead Act and all the miseries. I am now getting a bit bored of the mother-daughter relationship and mixing it with Pachinko, that I am loving. I am liking better the Korean family saga than the American one. There is danger in that, we are not in the US yet and I am already thinking about other places… This time I plan to fight the itch.
And a song from the latest album of Arctic Monkeys:
This post has been written with Gutenberg. What else?