It was October, I think. I was sitting on the ottoman in our family room putting my boots on (or maybe taking them off, because I don’t remember going anywhere after this conversation). Nick and I were having our usual casual conversation. How was your day? How did that meeting go? Are you going to make dinner? When he said the words that I had been hoping for and dreading for the past year.
Nick: “Well, it looks like Columbus might become a reality”
Me: “Okay”
Nick: “Is it okay?”
Me: “Yeah, whatever we need to do, we will make it work”
Just like that. Such an important conversation began and
ended. After all, we knew this day might come. Nick had been working towards
this training program for years and after making it into this year’s class we
knew that becoming a branch manager was only a matter of time. And, we knew
that this promotion could move us out of Cincinnati. Away from the job that I
love. Away from the beautiful house we had just built. Away from our friends
and most importantly our families.
But, nothing was for certain. This was just an opportunity
that might become a reality. He still hadn’t completed his training program and
the job wasn’t offered to him. Still, it was plain to see, this was happening.
October went on as if that huge conversation had never
happened. Oh, we talked about it all of the time. There were a lot of “ifs” but
no “whens”. We spoke in half sentences trying to keep the boys from figuring
out what might be on the horizon but at the same time we started to feel them
out on what they would think about a move and some changes.
![]() |
I must have known that this move would become a reality
because I soon began to mourn the inevitable loss of my current life. The hardest
part was kind of knowing that this stage of our lives would soon (but not sure
how soon) be gone and not knowing what the next stage would be.
I called my aunt who I look to as not only a spiritual guide
but also Catholic role model. I spilled
it all out to her. Everything that was supposed to be a secret, I told her. How this promotion would allow me to stay
home with my boys – something I always thought I wanted but I was terrified
that I would lose my identity. How I knew this would break my mom’s heart and I
didn’t know how I could possibly tell her that I’m taking her baby boys away,
when we had just got here. How this was
just in the talking phase and I didn’t even know how or when or even if it was
actually going to happen.
She listened. She was encouraging. And she gave me the best
advice she possibly could. She said “Remember the changing of the leaves.
Sometimes we just want to know the outcome, get past the waiting, and the
working and hurting and get to the good stuff. But we have to remember the
changing of the leaves. Remember how the leaves change.”
Instead of giving me the answers, or fast forwarding me to
the day of my choice. He gave me the leaves. The soccer tournaments. The snow
days. My uncle’s death and funeral Mass. Our last Christmas in our beautiful house.
The lazy Saturday mornings. Feeling this baby moving inside me. Cuddles and
kisses and even the dog has grown on me…
So, I’ll take the changing leaves. The times in between. Our
new life as a family will soon begin in another city, but the most important
thing is we will be together, as a family.
No comments:
Post a Comment