In November we moved back to South Dakota from Vermont after several months of preparation. Speechless from rage at first, both literally and in my writing (or lack thereof), I'm rediscovering my voice, reaching again for the pen. As my anger subsides, I find myself tired, fragile. After all, this is the third cross country move we've undertaken since summer 2007. Toss in the loss of both of my parents just 4 months before the second move and one finds a recipe for total breakdown. But, I have adapted before and will again. I just hope the constant chaos that comes from not having a steady place to plant will end.
That said, there is one more move in the immediate future. We rented an apartment in St Louis where we can live part time. South Dakota never will be my home. Missouri is the place I refer to as "home" when I say, "I'm going home for a visit." And St Louis is the place where Taciturn and I met and married in the late 90's. We both like it, and thought eventually we would end up there. He says he must have a place in the Black Hills where he can just be, a place to return to gather strength. Unfortunately the place from which he draws strength has the opposite effect on me. So the compromise is the St Louis place, to which we'll go starting in March. A lovely side benefit of going back home is proximity to the Episcograndchildren who now live in St Louis as well. Living in my home state, with my son and family just 25 minutes away instead of a 17 hour drive--well, that is just a bit of heaven on earth for this midwestern gal.