I become very nostalgic come February. Twenty-five years ago, I was blessed with a title. A new roll. No interview was had. No background check done (not that I needed one). No references required. Not even any on the job training. At a mere 20 years old, I was excited, nervous, scared to death with this new chapter. Most of all, I was in love. I became a mom. Then again, 3 years later. In 2000, Jesse and I married and merged our “mine, yours and ours” clan. Five beautiful girls.
You maybe wondering what this has to do with living off-grid. For us, it’s a large part of why and how we need up here.
Our house had a continously revolving door. It was a busy, non-stop, noisy, sometimes chaotic household. Not only with our girls, but their friends. In and out. All day, every day. Much of our time was also spent on the road. Getting them to their activities; dance, gymnastics, soccer, basketball, cheering, lacrosse and other school functions. It was a lot of hurry up and wait. Hurry up and wait. For years, our daily lives were planned around all these activities.
For more than half my life, I was needed. I had a purpose. It was my responsibility to help mold them into these beautiful, independent human beings. Day in. Day out. I always kept jobs that worked around the girls. Mostly working for myself. I wanted to be present in their daily lives and I was. They were always my first priority. As they got older, they got busier. So busy, that the time flew by, in a blink.
One day, life as we knew it, came to a screeching halt. Our youngest daughter graduated, and just like her sisters, she moved out shortly after, starting her own life. Our house that was once bustling and full of laughter, voices, screaming, music, slamming doors, became silent. Even the menagerie of animals couldn’t fill that void. The silence was deafening.
Empty Nest Syndrome kicked in.
The house wasn’t overly large. Nor was it small. We went from all of the rooms, plus the basement, being lived in and used, to basically only three rooms being utilized. With just the two of us, the house felt empty.
As left behind belongings lingered in the girls vacant bedrooms, I merged them into one. A room that I called “The Special Room”. Bits and pieces of them on the walls and shelves. Stuffed animals scattered around the room. Their left behind blankets, throw pillows and duvets, covered the queen size bed, where I would just lay, thinking, hoping that I had given them what they needed to survive this crazy ass world. Comfy sweatshirts, sweatpants and tee-shirts that were tucked in the bureau, became my favorite comfort clothes. I spent a lot of time in that room. Too much time. I felt lost.
What now? I was no longer responsible for anyone, other than myself. I had all this extra time to myself, that I had no clue what to do with. There was no hounding and nagging. No more figuring out schedules, practices and games. Morning coffee wasn’t filled with anxiety, wondering if they were going to make the bus on time or arrive to school safely, if they drove themselves. There were no more dinners at the table, it felt awkward with just the two of us. No more “goodnights, I love you” at bedtime. No one climbing in bed with me just for some “I had a shitty day” snuggles. So much had changed. So fast.
As months carried on, our days became automatic and monotonous. We both agreed we needed a change.
Well….we got one.
The Schoolhouse (aka camp) has always been our “Happy Place”. When life got to be too much and I needed grounding and centering, that’s where we’d go. It got to the point, we spent more time at camp then at home. Eventually, we discussed selling and buying or building something small. We sold. Quickly. The search and plans began. After months and months of looking, nothing felt right and if it did, it was soon off the market. We stopped looking. The Schoolhouse is HOME.
It’s not that we didn’t like the house we called Home. We loved it. It served our family well. It’s the place all of the girls were raised in and even our grandchildren came home to. But, memories do travel. They are not stuck under the metal roof or within the horsehair plaster walls. They fill our hearts and mind. They are with us everyday. Everywhere. That’s the best thing about memories.
For now, we look forward to the next season, the next project and whatever else lies ahead. Right now, we’re in no hurry. We’ll continue embracing being in the now, the simplicity of the life we have and this amazing experience…Together. In our Happy Place❤ Creating more memories.
Off-Grid Soul 