Two of Three

We arrived in Valencia two days ago and, sadly, we’re here to leave this city that we love. A chapter is closing – a chapter we don’t particularly want to close but need to close. It’s not that we don’t love Valencia. We do.

Mark, our oldest son, once told me that we have two really good lives. He was right, except I think it’s really three lives. For nearly four years, we’ve been fortunate to have a home in the U.S., an apartment in Spain, and lots of time traveling around the world. This amazing lifestyle is expensive, and the numerous spreadsheets we’ve been creating and poring over are telling us to choose two wonderful lives – not three.

Something must go. It’s not travel.

We’re giving ourselves some time to make this decision. In the meantime, we’ll move our belongings to a storage unit and say goodbye to amazing Valencia. In the coming months, we’ll spend more time than usual at our home in Pennsylvania. We have three wonderful grandchildren there, and it’s important to us to be present in their lives, especially now. At ages eleven, nine, and seven, it occurs to us that the window for attending ballet performances, soccer games, and just hanging out together will close in a few more years.

For now, we are choosing presence over preference. This isn’t easy for us and will be extra challenging on those subzero Pennsylvania mornings. We have been planning a move to France, and that remains on our horizon. Where in France? Not sure. When? Not sure.

When we arrived in New Wilmington six weeks ago, our intent was to sell the house and proceed with the move to France. Thinking about the finality of that and looking at our grandchildren’s faces, we had to put that decision on hold. The civility of a European lifestyle and culture beckons, but the cost of closing that door in Pennsylvania feels too high right now. That calculation is in the balance. We’ll be watching the midterm elections carefully along with the ensuing responses of our institutions. A further deterioration in the rule of law will certainly shift our thinking and may accelerate our transition to France.

Today, however, my thoughts are of Valencia. There are so many things I will miss – the “tranquilo” lifestyle of the Valencian people. Kind, patient, generous, and supportive of our attempts to speak Spanish. Vermouth and gildas as a pre-dinner get-together with friends. Seemingly endless parades and celebrations. A very walkable and beautiful city. Twenty euros a year for a bus pass. And there is so much more.

We’ve written about our life in Valencia but haven’t said as much about the friends we’ve made here. We’ve had so much fun with an interesting group of expats (expats are almost always interesting). It’s more than that, though. There are a few who have become family, and they will be deeply missed on a daily basis. We are already planning some return visits to Valencia.

Yet underneath the sadness is a hint of adventure and excitement. We’ll have a new country to learn, a new language to butcher, a new version of “our place” to call home. We’ve done this once already. We’ve moved to a country where we knew no one and figured it out. This turned out to be one of the best decisions of our lives.

So, here we are. Closing one door, propping open another, and staying, for now, in a home in Pennsylvania that is exactly where we need to be right now. Of course, we have some travel adventures on the calendar too – Costa Rica in January and Southeast Asia after that.

Three wonderful things – two of which we get to keep – and a little time before we know which two are right for the long term.