In the past months, I have been unsubscribing from lists that are local to New Jersey. Two were community chat lists. One was a newsletter from my gym, where I am no longer a member. Each time I hit the “unsubscribe” button, I have registered tangible feelings of sadness. The reality is setting in that we are not going back to live there. In October, Bill and I traversed the country from Colorado to New Jersey by car, a trip we have made many times. This time we agreed we will probably not travel again to Princeton by car. So when we headed west back to Pine at the end of our visit, after picking up the last things from our old house, I shed some tears.
Recently, I cancelled a doctor’s appointment for my annual physical, and in October I said goodbye to my dentist. These have been surprisingly personal relationships, with people we have trusted. They are transactional, but that is not all they are. The cancellation of my physical is full of symbolic meaning for me. I can tell myself that my doctors were nearing retirement themselves and that even if I had stayed in New Jersey, I would have needed to find new younger doctors. I also suspect that I don’t mean to them what they mean to me. I mean no criticism in saying that. I am glad I have left behind gospel seeds with some of them. Perhaps the fragrance of the Gospel will waft up in their lives as they have more time to think and more awareness of their own bodies wearing out.
One especially poignant part of our visit to New Jersey in October was a pure gift. Two dear married friends were also in town while we were there. The husband is in declining health and it is possible that this was our last time to see him on this side of the grave. Thank you, Lord, for that blessing and for the reminder that for the family of Christ, our goodbyes are not final.
Bill and I recently had dinner with new friends in Pine . It was easy to converse with them – they are warm and open! As we left, we said the type of goodbyes which are only until the next morning when we all show up for the neighborhood walk. I don’t mean casual goodbyes, but rather full of gratitude for the new blessing of friendship. I know in Princeton, new friendships are forming as well, of which we are not part.
Recently in church here in Colorado I met a woman with white hair, which is not unusual for my church. She has moved to the area for 6 months to work on a ranch taking care of the horses. Even here in the West, she is unusual for working at her age and in such a physical job. I suddenly felt like a city girl! Also recently we had five houseguests from the Northeast, and as we talked after dinner about politics, books, and our lives, Bill and I both realized we have not had many such conversations since we moved here, conversations based on so much shared culture and history together.
Despite these recent emotions of tangible loss and of being a fish out of water, each day continues to remind me that God brought us here. Since I started writing this post over a month ago, I have hosted my granddaughters for a second sleepover at our house, and accompanied a friend to sit with a housebound neighbor while her husband had to be away. Those are new experiences which I can only have because I am here. There have also been countless blessings of sharing this beautiful place and new phase of life with my husband. I have probably sent a dozen pictures to my family of the same view of the mountains in different lights, dawn, dusk, cloud and sun. By analogy, I would like to paint in my words view after view of the grandeur and faithfulness of God and the love of Jesus in the highs and lows of life, the hello’s and goodbye’s of this fleeting sojourn.