The silver lining stuff? This time the clouds were almost too big for me.
I just completed a move from Florida to Mississippi - Gulfport, to be exact. Moving across country is horrendous. I’ve done it twice. Once Chicago-to-Florida when my parents were failing health-wise, my husband was labelled “terminally ill” (he is very much not terminal now!) and my kids had all left home at one time.
This time, we moved because both my parents have passed away; my Florida son went back to Chicago with his family; my daughter’s husband is a Navy Seabee, stationed in Gulfport since the day after Katrina.
I’m younger than I’ll be and older than I once was, as Paul Simon said. I felt my age severely during this move. Bones and muscles screaming, I was depressed. What the hell am I doing in the middle of a community trashed by a hurricane two years ago?
I had dumped my stable of freelance work in Florida. No connections here. Yep, I had my work on the national pubs, but I lost a lot. My husband figured out on day one he hates his new job. Evidently they lied to him about his role - and he’s ticked off. Talk about stress–two mortgages, a ton of unusual expenses and a decrease in income.
It all got dark for a few days. I whined to my kids. I stopped sleeping. I wallowed.
By accident, I saw (on Craig’s List my favorite source of people ads) a “freelancers wanted” by the local news publishers here. I applied. They signed me up and I began writing features for The Journal of South Mississippi Business.
Interviewingi business and other leaders on post-Katrina topics, I found the most positive, selfless and forward-thinking points-of-view I’ve ever heard. These folks have gone through hell and back. They should wallow. And they aren’t. With extreme gratitude, they recognize the volunteer help they’ve had. They commend the boundless energy of local people. They remember the tragedies with quiet respect and look at the future with dedicated energy.
Something lead me to connecting with these people, besides my daughter’s life here. At a time when I didn’t have a niche or a goal left, I find myself eager to see what comes next here. I’ve witnessed tremendous progress in the past couple of years. I’ve spent a ton of time here, being nosy and interested, as is my bent. Now, I am anxious to see how we can help and what contribution we might be fortunate enough to make. It’s almost like hooking up with early American pioneers. Same spirit. Same grit.
If you get tossed somewhere you don’t feel comfortable, my new sage advice is - find the best part of it. My dad always said, you would never want to trade problems with anyone else. He was right. But sharing solutions is a darned good idea.
