Bittersweet is an apt description of how I feel when we pick up and move. The promise of a new adventure is exciting, but it’s heart-breaking to leave a place where you’ve been happy and made friends.
At the end of June, we are moving to Washington, D.C. My husband, Enrico, is done with his various residencies and fellowships in psychiatry, and we are finally ready to settle down. Over the course of our ten-year marriage, we have lived in Enrico’s native Milan, Arlington (VA), New York City, and even Cincinnati where I am from and where we lived for six months while we were transitioning from Italy to the U.S.
Now it is time for us to leave Syracuse, New York. Given that Enrico’s fellowship was only one year long, we knew there was a chance we would be here for a brief time. I remember sharing with you my complicated feelings about how I should approach living, given this knowledge. Would embracing a place and its people make it harder to leave? Would it be worth the energy?
In the end, I ended up jumping in. I wish it was out of courage or some lofty ambition. But after a really lonely August, I realized if I didn’t make friends, I would not only conserve energy, I would make myself miserable!
So I joined Mothers of Preschoolers, East Side Moms, and Holistic Moms (thank you to the wonderful women there who took me in); I met up with the editor of Family Times magazine and was thrilled to find a friend, fellow writer and mentor; I invited my daughters’ friends over and found I clicked with their moms too; and I gathered a little group of women like me and called it Central New York Blogger Mamas.
And the funny thing is, I wish I had done more. Yes, I’ve been busy with writing and our new baby, Luke, but I could have found time to volunteer at the school, have a neighborhood party, explore the downtown, and invite other families over for dinner.
Childhood friend, Karen, commented on my quandary last summer saying, it’s worth it to invest energy into a place and people, because experiences — and friends — stick with you. I agree. And, at the risk of sounding trite, I’ll say it’s better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.
The bittersweet feeling I have now is proof that I have really lived.
Eventually I will write a love song to Syracuse, but for now we’ll cut the violins and turn to more practical thoughts about moving. Below you can find some articles I am writing for Parentables, including one about how my family thinks we’re off our rockers to choose to live in an expensive place like D.C.
I appreciate having you as readers and being able to share these things with you. I hope you’ll accompany me as we make our next, and hopefully final, move. My blog will certainly stay alive because, with the cost of three-bedrooms in the Capital, I’ll need to be as frugal as ever!
All my best,
Amy
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Dear Friends,
Thank you so much for these warm wishes and offers of encouragement and sympathy. I needed them! I’ve responded to each of you personally, but I just wanted to say again how much I love hearing from you.
All my best,
Amy