Hey – we may as well have fun as we go sliding into old age, right?

So here I am.  Unemployed.  Getting ready to start my own business.  New home.  New state.  New lifestyle (I’m learning how to say “y’all”!).  New friends.  New church.  A whole new life.  At 54. 

Beginnings are exciting.  And stressful.  And fun.  Beginnings are full of potential – the sky’s the limit when you’re beginning something new. 

But before you reach that point where the yellow brick road stretches out before you and your ruby slippers, you first have to say “good-bye” to something.  Even Dorothy had to say good-bye to Kansas in order to find Oz.  And then she had to say good-bye to her friends in Oz to return home again.  Something has to end before something new begins.  And many of those good-byes are hard.

Sometimes that ending comes without notice.  Like Dorothy in her flying house.  Or people facing disasters like storms, earthquakes, fire, and floods. 

When that happens, it’s just “BAM!!”  Welcome to your new beginning, ready or not.  What you had is gone, and you have no choice but to pick up and move forward, my friend.

But many new beginnings are our choice.  We realize we’re in the wrong place, and we make the conscious decision to start fresh.  Maybe a new job – good-bye to the old one and our co-workers.  Maybe a new home – good-bye to the neighborhood and memories.  Maybe we start exercising for a new body – good-bye to those bad, yet comfortable, old habits.  Maybe we decide to eat differently for better health – good-bye Twinkies.  Maybe a new spouse – sorry, I got nothin’ for that one, since I have no intention of doing it, ever.  But I suppose it means saying good-bye to a home and memories and dreams. 

My new beginning has been a l-o-n-g time coming.  The joke is that I’ve had the longest good-bye ever.  You know that’s true when people start looking at you and saying “I thought you were gone!” 

Our move started almost four years ago, when Hubby and I decided that we wanted to be living full-time in eastern North Carolina.  I won’t bore you with all the sordid details, but we put our custom-built “we’ll stay here forever” New York home on the market just as the real estate market collapsed.  After dropping the price and switching realtors multiple times, the house finally sold for far less than what we paid for it.  During this process, I got a promotion at work, and ended up in the midst of an insanely stressful computer system conversion.  I wanted to see the project through to fruition, and frankly, I wanted to collect those paychecks while we renovated our North Carolina house. 

So the furniture moved to North Carolina without us last year.  We stayed in New York in a small semi-furnished apartment generously rented to us by a good friend.  As the weather turned colder, my retired husband took one look at the pending snowflakes, and moved his butt to the fully-furnished and newly-remodeled North Carolina house without me. 

My employer eventually agreed to let me try working remotely from North Carolina last spring, with lots of traveling back and forth.  It didn’t hurt that they were about to flip the switch on this new computer system and they kinda needed me (timing is everything). 

That arrangement was exactly what I’d asked for, and I loved working from home, but it only resulted in stretching out the inevitable.  I couldn’t move into my new life because I was firmly anchored in the old one.  The first thing my NC neighbors said to me whenever they saw me was “so, are you here for good yet?”  And every time, I had to answer “no, I have to go back to NY in a few weeks.” 

Finally, my employer mercifully brought my half-here, half-there existence to an end by announcing that they were replacing me, and asking me to train my replacement.  Awkward.  And painful.  Partly because my replacement is going to be good.  And that hurts just a little. 

New beginnings require good-byes, and those good-byes finally came last week.  The warm-hearted good-bye parties, gifts, notes, speeches and astounding expressions of appreciation for what I had accomplished truly humbled me.  They also made leaving feel very real.   I suddenly wanted to cling desperately to this comforting “old” life where I was paid so well and people liked me and damn, I was good at it! 

It was painful and yes, I cried like a baby on the last day.  It was messy.  I’m a very sloppy crier anyway.  Plus I’m smack dab in the middle of menopause, so once the tears started, they just didn’t stop.  But you know what?  I was leaving a nice life and good people and a great career.  It was a good-bye that deserved a few tears.

I’m past that now, and I’m ready to BEGIN.  I literally hugged my house when we got home Friday, and did a crazy happy dance in the driveway.  My neighbors greeted me warmly.  I emptied my suitcases and put them away for hopefully a very long time.  I had a great phone conversation with the fabulous friend who’s hopefully about to become a fabulous business partner, and we started making plans for the future. 

So farewell, my dear New York friends and family – we’ll stay in touch via this blog, Facebook, Skype, email, and even the old-fashioned way – by phone.  And I’ll visit once in a while (after winter passes).  But my new life has begun now, and I’m ready to step forward.   

It’s a new beginning.  Reinventing myself as I approach my 55th birthday.  Figuring out what I want to be when I grow up.  Starting a new career in a new home in a new state.  Risk…and hopefully reward. 

The good-byes have been tough, but they’re part of moving forward.  And that’s what life is all about.  Change is always part of the deal.  

Advertisements

Comments on: "Beginnings Always Start With “Good-Bye”" (8)

  1. Wonderful post, wonderful experience! Good luck starting over in North Carolina as a full-time resident. I’m sure many exciting adventures await. -Pam Houghton, LinkedIn

  2. Our stories are different but we also are trying to move in a later stage of life than you. I laughed when I read, “You’re still here?” because we have also heard that. Good luck to you.

  3. Joanne thank you for sharing your writing talent with us. You know I always enjoyed your writing style, it started when you wrote training and emails that people could actually understand. Keep the blog going, I am thrilled to read your prospective on life. I too made major changes which you know. Left my job, husband and beautiful custom home and family to start anew in St. Augustine. Thanks to you, your mom and dad and your husband I was introduced to this beautiful place. You will do well in your new adventure because of who you are.

    • Robin – thanks so much! I just didn’t have the energy for the blog most of this year, but now I feel like I have to do it. There have been so many things that I’ve thought “I’d blog about that if I had the time…”, so now I can catch up. I’m so glad to hear how happy you are in St. Augustine, and the friends you’ve made there. Sometimes we just have to find the place that’s “right” for us. That happened for us almost the first day we stopped here in Eastern NC – John and I looked at each other and said “this is where we have to live”.

  4. You did it better than anybody else I know. Welcome to NC! And, it’s “all y’all” if you want everybody included. NC is now my home for the past 15 years and I count myself blessed to have each and every home as part of my history. Every friend. Every job. Every neighbor. Again, welcome to NC.

    • Having wonderful friends like you made the move SO much easier, Dianne! I really do love it here, and it’s so nice to know I’m really, finally, truly here for good.

  5. Change is so scary and so wonderful, isn’t it?

    • Nancy – it really is like stepping off a cliff, but loving the view and praying for wings! My husband assured me today that I’m trying to make things too complicated, and I just need to start my business and figure it out as I go (which is something else that scares me!).

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Tag Cloud

%d bloggers like this: