Life is a Journey

A Holiday Dinner at Fred & Rae's

 

The winds have lit­er­ally been whip­ping over the plains and down to our Ozark Mountains in the past week, so I guess it’s appro­pri­ate that the fig­u­ra­tive winds of change are also blow­ing on our mountain.

Expected changes are afoot, such as the light lin­ger­ing longer before falling to shad­ows in the evening, but there are also some other changes in our lit­tle cor­ner of the world.

Our neigh­bors put their house on the mar­ket a cou­ple of months ago. When they told us before­hand, it was a quite unex­pected move since they had been work­ing on their Dream House for the past decade and expected to retire there.

They had looked for land for some time, as many do, after vaca­tion­ing here and began build­ing their home about ¾ of a mile down the road shortly after we fin­ished con­struc­tion on Our Little House.

Since we were all “week­enders” we had lit­tle inter­ac­tion with them until we moved here nearly seven years ago.

The biggest thing we had in com­mon was our home­town, we all moved here from Kansas City. It was good for us to have some­one near us who under­stood the cul­ture we had lived in all of our lives.

After we moved here, we enjoyed din­ners at each other’s homes, includ­ing many hol­i­days. I went down to let their dogs run when they wanted to take day trips, Rae taught me to can and we shopped in town together, par­tic­u­larly when my Baby Blazer was parked after my crash.

Rae also enjoys sushi and she was my first “sushi buddy” here. Dale and Fred fished together some­times. It was on their boat on one 4th of July, com­ing back from watch­ing the fire­works dis­play over the water at the dam that I col­lided with a bat in the dark.

Dale worked on their vehi­cles, 4-wheeler and boat and Fred used his exper­tise in con­struc­tion by assist­ing with our home repairs and fin­ish­ing work on The Belle Writer’s Studio.

Of course, we had our ups and downs, as friends do, but they were good neighbors.

We were sorry to hear that they planned on sell­ing their beau­ti­ful home and move closer to town. As they got older, they felt too iso­lated out here and fre­quent trips to their church, where they’re very active, was becom­ing a drain.

Downsizing a bit will also help Fred retire, as he still makes the com­mute to Kansas City to work sev­eral days a week.

Their move reminds us once again that life is a jour­ney, not a des­ti­na­tion. What we may have thought we wanted or did want 15 or even 10 years ago evolves and changes, even when we think we have achieved our dreams.

As we drove home from their house this week­end, per­haps for one of the last times, the sun was begin­ning to set behind the moun­tain. The mem­o­ries of all of those evenings spent at their home came flood­ing back and I was touched with deep sadness.

But the light will con­tinue to linger on this old friend­ship. Although not as con­ve­nient, we can help them make mem­o­ries in their new home.  And new occu­pants might bring us new friends and new mem­o­ries in their old one.

Life is a jour­ney, always chang­ing and evolv­ing with new opportunity.

Have you had neigh­bors turn into good friends? Was it sad when one of you moved?   

8 Responses to “Life is a Journey”

  1. Patricia says:

    I've missed your posts — none since January and hope that you're both ok and noth­ing bad has hap­pened. When we find "friends" on their blogs, we begin to enjoy spend­ing time with them, learn­ing about their life's ups and downs, ins and outs, and we, can live through their blogs, the type of life lives we really can only dream about. Be well, be happy — but please let us know all is well.

    • Kerri says:

      Thank you so much, Patricia. I didn't mean to take so long of a break from the blog. I will begin blog­ging again this week. I'm sorry you missed my posts, thanks for being such a loyal Living Larger!

  2. Mary says:

    I hope you are far­ing well dur­ing this win­ter. Here in cen­tral Missouri we have been hav­ing snow, ice and cold grey days. Today, freez­ing rain chang­ing to rain. I can hear it hit­ting the win­dows now. But, tomor­row sun is fore­cast.
    Look for­ward to read­ing your blog and how you are doing.

  3. Brette says:

    You are so right that life is a jour­ney and what works for you is always chang­ing. I'm feel­ing the imper­ma­nence of things now strongly since my mother-in-law just passed away and my daugh­ter is going to be mov­ing out. We too are start­ing to reassess where we live and think about changes.

  4. Sheryl says:

    I hope your spe­cial friend­ship will endure even though your friends are mov­ing on. We had neigh­bors who turned into close friends. Though we both moved, and it takes more effort to see one another, we still man­age though not as often.

  5. Clay Mccleery says:

    Always enjoy your sto­ries. Sounds idyllic.

  6. Change can be dif­fi­cult and things don't always work out as planned. We bought land in 2000 and had planned to build our dream house, but instead, when a house across the road came up for sale, we real­ized it would be much cheaper and eas­ier to buy it than build our own. Our dream was altered, but we still ended up liv­ing just across from our land. We are where we want to be for now, but we often talk about the fact that as we get older, it will be more of a chal­lenge to take care of 105 acres and a big house with yard. I don't like to think of this dream we're liv­ing, com­ing to an end. But such is life, and prob­a­bly the time will come when we'll need to down­size and move to a more senior friendly home. It's impor­tant to be able to deal with change and to be flex­i­ble in how our dreams are real­ized. And of course, it's impor­tant to not fix­ate too much on what might hap­pen in the future, and instead enjoy the time we have here and now.