Transitional Difficulties

The transition was harder than I expected.

Although my wanderlust was always there, just under the surface, nudging my feet to move, explore, see the world, I had grown deeply fond of my quirky little house on the river.

We bought the place when it was a shack on a serene piece of property with an incredible view. Then we renovated the house to make it our own. Many family parties, sleepovers and holidays were spent there.  We turned it into a beautiful home with a calm, welcoming energy I loved.

A few short years later we bought our bus, Tomás, and began to renovate him as well. The anticipation of long-term travel began to feed my soul once more. The carpel tunnel from removing hundreds (if not thousands) of screws by hand, bloody fingers from—who knows what, and the late nights spent sanding, painting, and gluing was all worth it. The designing and redesigning until we got just the right layout brought Kevin and me closer.

I was (and still am) proud of what we have created. I showed off Tomás to anyone who would come aboard and take a peek at our masterpiece—at our boy.

Then after a two-year setback due to covid, I finally began to empty the house and fill the bus. I was smart and bought boxes with uniform dimensions to cut down on the necessity for Tetris skills while packing our things in storage. Get the medium sized boxes! Trust me. I got large. If you ever want to know what it’s like to lift a house—get the large.

I was excited and ready to roll. I was calm and organized—until I wasn’t. One day, as I taped the last box for that day’s storage run, something caught in my throat. I looked up to see a nearly empty house and a clear, jade-colored river just outside my door. I knew that beneath the deck was a patio where two hammocks hung. Hammocks where I spent many days swaying gently with a book in my hands, or watching the grandkids swing so wildly I feared they might launch themselves into the river. The hammocks were next to the outside bed where Kevin and I would often sleep on cool summer nights.

I remembered the night we watched a lightning storm over the river from the safety of our sleeping nook. It was magical.

I looked at the dining table with six chairs perched upside down on the tabletop, and like a movie trailer in my mind, I replayed holiday dinners, pumpkin carvings, egg dyeing and birthday parties that had happened there. I knew where every paint stain and scratch had come from.

Suddenly my heart shattered like a crystal vase at the vibration and volume of my operatic memories.

I sat next to my taped-up box, whose contents I could no longer remember, and wept.

*  *  *

That was three weeks ago. We have been living in the bus now for six days. The renters have moved into my quirky little river house. They’ve painted the walls and made changes.  It is no longer my home. And I’m okay with that.

My home now has eighty eight square feet of living space, four wheels and a calm, welcoming energy, just like my little house on the river.

I will miss my family (so happy we are sticking around to say our goodbyes until June), but I’m ready.

My soul is most still when my feet are not.

Kevin, me and Tomás are off on an adventure!

15 thoughts on “Transitional Difficulties”

  1. Marie Henken

    Dear Andi,

    What a great introductory blog. Look forward to hearing about your and Kevin’s adventures.
    Marie and Marty

  2. Enjoy your New life my 2 friends.
    I love your house but you will enjoy your New life with Tomas.
    Kisses from Morocco.

  3. I can imagine it’s such a bittersweet transition. Change can be so difficult, but I know you will get settled into Tomas and the adventure will fill your soul! It might be fun to reinvent your river home again when you get back from the PanAm.

    1. Thank you. I am imagining a transformation when we gat back as well. Our tastes may be completely different by then. You can help me decorate.

  4. Oops! I thought you were on the road by now. When do you head north?
    We will be heading to the Oregon coast next week in our motorhome. Don’t know how long we’ll be out.

    We met at Jean’s house in NE Portland. Sorry, I never got her last name. She might still be in Croatia.

    1. I’m sorry I didn’t see this sooner. We are in Canada now and will be back in Alaska today and heading to Prudhoe Bay.

  5. Thank you for sharing your adventures and your heart ❤ I love that you are doing a blog and I’m excited to see and read more!!

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