CLAY AND WATTLES

Last Things

My sister was been referred to a new job, one which they practically recruited her for, and one which she applied for. It is also a good time, she said, to begin looking before RIF in a couple of years. (Reduction in force) And it is an increase in grade and pay. The offer came and she accepted.

Memorial Day weekend we talked excitedly about her moving from San Antonio to Columbus, MS, and being nearer to family - she would be within the borders of a "golden triangle" - a fairly easy 3-6 hour drive from me, her daughter and our mother. Much better than the 13-14 hours away she is now. We talked about her coming full circle, back to Mississippi; about her finding an older home - a "little white house" and making her nest (the nesting part came later); about driving to see each other, most likely meeting in Oxford, one of our favorite places (Square Books).

Since her women's camp in Austin, she had met new friends; she and David will need to work out the distance thing between him and her new home. Now is when reality sets in - leaving a home she's had for eight years (already?!), leaving David in SA (although he does travel extensively with his job, and she does with hers at times), leaving friends in SA, the million things there are to do there - art centers, museums, concerts, restaurants, outlying towns and cities full of German culture, Spanish culture, a real lively mix of traditions and rich experiences.
It's difficult to look at things as though seeing them for "the last time." I know what that feels like, too. I've looked at many things in the last few weeks, months, with "last glances," and some are painful - people I may never see again who have been important in my life; events I won't have to plan (not so painful!!), reports I won't have to fret over... She will miss the life she's made in SA, but she has always been one who makes home wherever she is and soaks up the atmosphere and experiences of the town, the country, the island.

But at the women's camp, she experienced an "epiphany" related to building her nest, so this is the opportunity she needs to relax, let it happen, not push/make it happen. I sent her a small book (an Avalon romance I think) from the library 25-cent table titled "A Next of One's Own" for her to put on a shelf in her new home.

Last night I talked to her and she was walking around her house trying to get personal things put away, small items, like the ironing board she used for a sofa table (you wouldn't know it unless you were on the patio looking in!). "I'm holding my hand.." she said, meaning to say, "I'm holding in my hand." "Well, I wish I were there to hold your hand," I told her. "Listen to Gale Garnet CD you sent me," she told me. "Don't you have that?" I do. I did listen. They are sad songs for the most part, and changing a name here and there would fit her circumstances and feelings perfectly.It's a little like homesickness in reverse.

Circumstances and feelings - yes, we have human attachments to places, things, people. But I know she will be fine and will make Columbus an exciting place. I reassured her that God is in control and He knows where she will live and what sort of little house she needs. I wish I could be there to help, but I know He is.