Susan called unexpectedly. "I've got this lead on a job back here, are you interested?" Yes, I was more than interested. Within days I was in interviews. Before the end of July there I was with a a consulting position offer to do communications work for a federal group. I accepted, John announced he was moving and was quickly told to set up shop in our new digs, and we called the mover. Before I the sweat on my forehead from the steamy heat could drip down my face, we were ready to leave. My friend J flew in to drive with me back to D.C. She wanted to come full circle with me. John followed after the movers pulled away. We left keys for the renter. We were no longer marooned in Memphis.
Was it a bad decision to move to Memphis ? I think not now that I have some distance from those 18 months. I learned what it is that I miss most--my friends, the Bay, a vibrant city life, the Metro, and a climate that doesn't melt your mind before mid-day in August.
It wasn't all bad...well, almost, but not all. Our neighbors were kind and welcoming. Our dentist, Jodi Rump, who left the ol' southern boys practice in the suburbs, opened her own practice in the city on Main Street with great skill and laughter. She's the best. The Mt. Olive dog rescue league gave us Fred's cocker spaniel step brother, Joe-Joe--a sassy boy with big brown eyes, long lashes, fetching smile, and not so brilliant, but dancing personality.
Memphis gave birth to John's second career, a job in private industry. And lastly, Memphis gave me my writing, because, when you live in a strange city with no daily grind of a paying job, there's not much to distract you from sitting down an writing--no matter how painful and frustrating it may be.
Since August 1st, each morning Monday thorugh Friday, I lift my sleepy head off the pillow when early morning traffic reports spike my ears. The sun seeps through the window blinds, lighting my view of the Capital and Potomac River from our 17th floor apartment. I take a deep breath, and stretch. I get out of bed and shuffle to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee. I'll be on the metro within an hour. I smile--I'm home. We're home. So ends the Memphis Diary.
There's a new blog at Sixties Shorties. Life is unexpectedly interesting.
