Over the phone he said, “So what do you think about moving?”
And my stomach dropped.
I was cooking, looking out the window onto the pink, purple and turquoise of an Arizona monsoon sunset – one that’s become so familiar to me – and was instantly aware that I might not be ready to leave. After all my bitching! All my whining, longing, impatient waiting, kvetching and complaining….longing for Seattle or ANY old place other than here. Wanting desperately to be free of this place and now…..it looks like I want someone to hold the goddamn phone, just a moment, while I think it about further.
He was only being dramatic, as it turns out. It’s only a rumor, his possible transfer to destination unknown. But in the meantime I’m suddenly wondering if uprooting the family from the happy, if boring, little life we have going here would be such a great thing after all. He would go directly from here to war. Only a small pitstop in between.
But if we stay here, he just remains unhappy in his job, I remain unhappy with the shit hole town, but our kids have their father and we have each other.
It’s never ideal, is it?