T for Transition

Transition.  Webster’s defines it as a movement, passage or change from one position, state or stage to   There’s such energy, excitement, anxiety and possibility in transition. It’s a beautiful thing.

another.

I remember my first big transition.  After 18 years at home in the same town, same school, same church, same friends, I set off for college.  Granted it was only 90 minutes down the road, but it might as well have been the far side of the moon.  I was lost. Homesickness almost overwhelmed me, but my tenacity saved the day.  I had signed up for this, I would complete it.  At least the first semester.  That’s what I wrote home to my grandparents the second week of freshman year – that I would stay until Christmas, but then it was back home for me. 

Of course, by Christmas break, I was settled, connected and happy as a lark.  They couldn’t have drug me away from college life.

Fast forward about a dozen years.  Charlie and I are about to make our first corporate relocation from Kentucky to Wisconsin.  Doesn’t seem that drastic, hey?  Again, it could have been the far side of the moon.  I was in a tizzy.  Tossed and turned at night asking what we had done.  How could we fix it.  Finally, after a long talk with Charlie, I picked up the phone, called my old boss in Louisville and asked for my job back. 

I was flying through Louisville in a few weeks so he suggested we meet then.  We talked and agreed to my return. And, immediately, upon getting back to Wisconsin, I thought – what am I doing?  I’ve moved on.  I can’t go back now. 

So we didn’t.  My boss was a pretty smart guy.  I’m guessing he knew that all along, but he had placated me, let me know I had a home if I needed it.  I respect him for that to this day.

When the next move came, no big deal.  By this time, I knew to expect the initial shock.  And I knew that it would pass.  I knew that going back wasn’t a good idea.  Once we made the decision, we moved forward.  This lesson was pretty easy to remember. 

Until it wasn’t.  Our first international move almost led to complete brain freeze.  At more than one point, we were tempted to throw in the towel, call it a day and go home to the USA.  We persisted.  And it was great.  Our second international move was smoother.  We reclaimed our star pupil status.

And then we stopped moving.  After 24 years of marriage and more than a dozen moves, we landed in Singapore in 2006 and have been firmly rooted here since.  At this point, that’s about eight out of our almost 32 married years – a full 25% of our lives in one place. But that doesn’t mean life hasn’t had its transitions.  I’ve moved from my 40s to 50s.  I’ve moved from being the mother of two amazing young women to being a mother-in-law of two outstanding young men and Oma to two beautiful little people.  In 2008, Charlie’s mom died. In 2010, we said goodbye to my dad.  There have been promotions and new jobs and graduations and celebrations, illnesses, heartaches, challenges and triumphs.  A few weeks ago, Mom sat at the closing table and turned over the keys to the family home.  In a few more weeks, for the first time in 40 years, a new family will celebrate their first Thanksgiving dinner in the old red brick house in a kitchen that overflows with good memories and great times. 

I used to think the geographical relocations were tough transitions.  I’ve learned that isn’t always the case.  But I’ve also learned that life is transition.  And we must carry on. Tenacity, today and thanks – more great T words.

Through all life’s transitions, let us give thanks and rejoice for today is the day the Lord has made.