Dear Moving Readers,
How many times have you moved?
We moved thirteen times in five weeks after Hurricane Katrina. Thankfully, there was a generous opportunity of three free apartments for a year in southern California. We settled there, but we wondered… “Should we stay or should we go?” We decided to move back to Louisiana. The U-Haul arrived. We packed it and drove.
And I wept for three days! Pierre told the boys “mom will be alright.” A glass of wine didn’t solve it. A piece of chocolate cake didn’t solve it. I wept across the entire drive. Here we go again.
My dad and little sister dropped me off at college. It was in a different state. I never visited the college. I just got dropped off. They fixed the dorm room, and they left. Here we go again.
We arrived in Mandeville, Louisiana. Pierre pulled up at apartments I’ve never seen. I brought the kids to school which I never visited. Pierre visited the apartments and school beforehand. Here we go again.
Don’t I have a voice?
Don’t I have a say?
Once again, I was silenced, quenched. Don’t feel. Just do. Jennifer, you are a great performer. Aren’t you?
I’ve been married to Pierre for twenty years now.
And I spoke up. I wanted to move back to California. I wanted to build roots there. I wanted to raise my boys there. I led with my heart and my intuition.
I am sick of moving, doing, performing.
We moved thirteen times in five weeks after Hurricane Katrina.
My twenty year anniversary was Wednesday. And the U-Haul truck pulled up again. We unloaded it. Here we go again.
And I breathed… I finally breathed. Jennifer, you are creating this. Aren’t you? Here I finally go… Hallelujah!
No longer moving but finally steady.
Here I Go,
Photo Credit: Scott Ash