ad·ap·ta·tion
–noun
1. the act of adapting; adjustment
2. a form or structure modified to fit a changed environment
When I looked out the window of the airplane as we flew west this past March, I simply couldn't fathom calling Utah home once again. I had dreamt of the day for over a decade, but with time, dreams seem to fade and reality sets it. We had been gone for a long, long time. It seemed like I had been away for a lifetime. Well, six little lifetimes, since Trey was only just a babe when we packed up the van and moved to Kentucky nearly eleven years ago. So many things had changed. So many siblings were now grown and had moved on. It wasn't the same place that I called home once before.
When we arrived, I did feel like we were visitors. I know that had everything to do with the return airplane ticket I had in seven days time. A week is just not long enough. It was wonderful live with our parents, make stops to see the grandparents, catch up with cousins and see old familiar faces we love, but it was hard say goodbye. There was a sadness that always came when you hugged and kissed your family and walked out the door.
Of course, this time was different because the end of Rich's medical road was in sight. We knew when we could see them again and it wasn't exactly twelve months later. The next time we came home it would be to stay.
Even with this knowledge, Utah was not our home base yet. We had a life waiting for us back in Cincinnati. The boys had school, the girls had preschool, there were baseball and soccer games waiting to be played. There were primary lessons needing to be prepared. There were two homes that had to be packed. Honestly, there was so much to do I really wondered if we really could get it all done.
The weeks ticked by. I crossed of our 'do list'. The kids played with the Hooper boys like their lives depended on it. I scanned so many documents buying and selling a house that the stack made the phonebook look tiny. Rich worked and worked and worked some more. Life continued on, like it always had.
Then our first moving day came. We drove down to Lexington (after a quick detour to West Virginia). We spent one last night in our lovely home on Fitzroy. I took down shelves and patched holes and painted. We cleaned the fridge and carefully wrapped up the paintings. It was nice to be there and give it a proper farewell. It had been a dream place to live, but as I smoothed out the spackle and coated the walls with paint, I knew that our time there had run its course. Lexington was not our real home now. It had been so painful to leave. I had missed our house, our ward, our friends. I missed UK, the beautiful horses and the lovely green rolling hills. I missed our old life. Then, like turning on a switch, we made the leap and moved to Cincinnati and soon I fell into a new rhythm of life there. Sure I still missed seeing the people, but we adapted and felt at home in our new city. Lexington would always hold a special place in my heart, but it wasn't the center of our world anymore.
Not long after our Cincinnati moving day arrived. It was long and painful and arduous, but it felt right to move on. I had noticed how I had begun to mentally check out. I had said my goodbyes and knew that I was once again distancing myself from our life in Ohio. I think it is how we cope. It's how we adjust to change. When the time is right, it's easy to see the good, be grateful the bad bits were in the past and be prepared physically and mentally for change.
Adaptation.
I see it with so many things in life.
My sweet little squirrels and run around the yard have to adapt to the ever changing seasons. Birds physically change to better suit their environment. We change our wardrobe depending on the event we are attending. Employees are constantly evolving and learning and growing to better fit their current job. Our world has evolved and changed from the beginning of time.
Change is a reality of life. You can try hard to avoid it, but you'll be fooling yourself if you don't think it will come. It always does.
And this time I was ready. I had endured weeks of clogged sinks, broken washing machines, endless sorting and tossing and packing. Each little part, helped me move forward and adapt to the massive change that was coming. It all made it a little easier to look back and smile and give a heartfelt goodbye to the lovely Ohio Valley that we called home for so long.
It took the big parts and little things to get me ready to move on. When life is full swing you simply focus, work and go full steam to accomplish the task at hand and then move on to the next project or event. Day to day there are challenges, adjustments, ups and downs, successes, failures and tiny priceless moments of joy and perfection. Every twist and turn, we find ourselves making choices that help us adjust to the situation. Through all those winding roads that we travel through life, we stretch, move, grow and continue to adapt to our new surroundings. And when you do, you soon gain a new perspective about your past, your present and your future. You enjoy the big, the small and even then mundane in-between.
You adapt and become ready to face your new future.
Here I sit. A month after the move and I'm still making adjustments. Just like I knew it would, there have been interesting paths we've moved along throughout July. I'm learning that you can live out of ten duffel bags for 33 days after your moving truck pulled away. I thank the heavens everyday for parents that let us move right in and make ourselves at home while we wait. I am figuring out that it's so nice to have a long break and some down time before you have to deal with the reality of moving and unpacking and settling into a new home, ward, neighborhood, town and job. I am anxious for our remaining things to finally be delivered to Alpine no later than next Monday. I have cherished our time with our parents and families letting the kids better develop those relationships and make wonderful memories with them this summer. Our house in Alpine still seems like a short pit stop place instead of home since we have yet to sleep there. It's sort of hard to settle in when you have no metal bed frames, no wooden slats for the twin beds, lost bedding, one towel and a missing dryer vent. Life is always full of surprises.
Adaptation might be my word for the summer of 2011.
That is perfectly fine by me, because it means that when the next wave of change comes I'll be ready and eager for the challenge.
I've seen it time and time again over the past few months. Life is just about as unpredictable as the weather. You just can't plan it all out ahead. Sometimes you find that you weren't as prepared as you had thought and you have to adapt to your current situation. When the crazy rain and wind and dark skies appear you know without a doubt that the storm will pass. And if you get really, really lucky, you can sometimes find a perfect, bright rainbow to help you remember the promise that life is beautiful and it will get better.
It always does.
