Staying Put
I'VE MOVED SIX TIMES in the last 10 years. Four of those moves involved relocating less than a mile. The most recent move���from Portland, Oregon, to Phoenix, Arizona���required significantly more travel.
As a child, my family changed homes frequently. I attended five different elementary schools between first and fourth grade. I���ve never minded moving. I���m not the type of person who gets attached to a home or a particular location. I���m a firm believer that change is a good thing.
But my husband and I hope the move to Phoenix will be our last. The warm weather here is a welcome change from the rainy, gray days in the Northwest. The lifestyle within the 55-plus community where we���re now located suits us. The people are friendly. The activities are plentiful. Yard care���something I never enjoyed doing���is practically nonexistent.
We���re glad we relocated, despite leaving behind friends and family members. We���re well aware most people our age are reluctant to move. For us, it was never a question of if we would leave Oregon, but when. Now that we���re both retired, it was time to relocate.
Financially, I hate to think about how much money all those moves cost me. When I was an apartment dweller, security and cleaning deposits ate up a significant amount of cash. When I broke a lease to purchase a house, I forfeited more than $2,000. As a homeowner, closing costs, inspections and real estate agent commissions cost me tens of thousands of dollars.
There have been positive aspects to making multiple moves. I���ve significantly reduced the amount of clutter in my life. With each change of address, I purged more items. Along the way, I altered my thoughts on what was meaningful to me and what wasn���t. Many items I���d been hauling around since my college days ended up at a local donation center or in a dumpster.
I���ve pared down 55 years��� worth of personal memories to a few items that fit into a couple of large plastic bins. What have I kept? I have a shoebox filled with almost every report card I ever received. I still enjoy reading the comments written by my teachers. It seems that by third grade my personality was mostly set. ���Kristine doesn���t socialize much with her peers. Instead, she spends her free time reading and writing stories.���
I have a handful of ribbons and trophies from my 4-H days. I have the scrapbooks I made for each of my dogs that document our accomplishments in different disciplines at a variety of dog shows. I have some framed photos, my high school and college diplomas, and a collection of nearly every article or story I���ve ever had published.
Technology has, no doubt, made it easier to simplify life. Most of the photos that my husband and I take these days never make it to print. Instead, they get downloaded onto a digital photo frame where they���re displayed 24/7 in our living room. Tax returns, product manuals and receipts all get scanned into digital files and stored in our online filing system.
The one thing I can���t seem to part ways with? Books.
Despite years of trying to convert to reading books on a digital platform, I just can���t seem to make the switch. Something hardwired in me prefers the feel and weight of a real book. I like to highlight passages and dog-ear pages. I like looking at the rows of books lined up on my desk that reflect the different interests I���ve had over the years. Some of the books in my collection date back to my childhood days and bring back fond memories when I flip through the pages.
Was it worthwhile to haul hundreds of pounds of books 1,200 miles to our new home? Time will tell. But if history is any indication, there���s a good chance you���ll find me sitting on our back patio, soaking up the sun, and spending my free time reading and writing stories.
Kristine Hayes retires this month from��her job as departmental manager at a small, liberal arts college. She��enjoys competitive pistol shooting and hanging out with her husband and their dogs. Check out Kristine's earlier articles.The post Staying Put appeared first on HumbleDollar.
