It’s difficult to believe, even 4 months on, that somehow…against the odds…we’ve successfully relocated to Europe. To a gorgoeus mediterranean country full of pastel buildings, red clay roofs, bright blue skies, and more wine than I know what to do with.
But here we are. As I write, late afternoon sunshine spills onto the living room balcony, warming the wooden patio furniture set around a small table. The parquet floors gleam where I sit in the cool shadowed interior. Outside, cars honk occasionally as traffic moves below us. It’s a perfect day here. 80 degrees Fahrenheit, blue skies, and nowhere to be but present. Earlier today, I walked alone to the fresh market to purchase fruits and vegetables ahead of the weekend.
I sit now at my computer, wine glass filled with a chilled white picked by the owner of my favorite wine shop (conveniently close to the fresh market), a handful of ripe strawberry slices add color to the drink. I’ve been hesitant to write about this new adventure. (Is “adventure” even the right word for starting over in a new country?) I’ve kept it private on most of my social media accounts. I limit photos of our new location on Instagram to only close personal friends/family. The majority of my Facebook friends have no idea that we’ve left the country. What has me so reluctant to share this change in life circumstances?
I think some of it is privilege and guilt. I feel guilty that we were able to pull it off. That I had the help and support of my dad and stepmom making it possible. Their encouragement and understanding made a world of difference when it felt like my small-town friends didn’t understand. I still struggle to accept that I have the financial means for this life solely because of some pretty awful things that happened to me during my military service. At times, I feel I don’t deserve it. At other times, it feels like the compensation barely scratches the surface for the hurt. Where to put all these mixed feelings? Hell if I know.
I do know that I’m sleeping better, living here. I do know that my stress levels and my anxiety and my irritability…all are way down. I feel like I can breathe again for the first time in years. I want to cook. I want to keep my beautiful flat tidy and pretty and shining. I want fresh flowers in a vase in the kitchen. I want more flowers in the living room. And in a vase on my bedside table. I want to be consistent with my workouts for my new trainer. I want to make friends with the people I meet over and over throughout my day. I want to build the kind of beautiful new life here that didn’t feel possible before.
It feels possible now.
I’m holding onto that.
I think it’s time to pour a second glass of wine, and to think about what’s for dinner. So many fresh vegetables on the counter from the market to choose from. More to come in days ahead.
pine sap & paper 