A Memphian's Lament

A series of events and divine signs have led us here. Peter's employer wanted him on-site in the DC area more. We wanted him to travel less. My job situation had become tenuous, and the commute was not healthy for our family. We prayed a lot. We researched a lot. Peter told the company he'd move to the DC 'burbs. Suddenly, I had a job, too. A great job in suburban DC. A whirlwind from "let's start thinking about this" to "I guess we're doing this." So many aspects of this transition fell into place, so I know it's right. We have a townhouse to rent there, which we rented sight-unseen (scary and VERY uncharacteristic of me), that we then saw on a pre-move visit and turns out, is perfect. Mine is kind of my dream job in many ways. The changes with Peter's position will be almost certainly positive. We're moving in two weeks to northern Virginia, and it will be great!

So why, why, why, does this hurt so much? When I moved away for college, I always said I'd never move back to Memphis, and then, 13 years later, I rolled back into town. I complain regularly about Memphis and all its problems--the culture of racism, the mostly bad schools, the apathetic majority, the hot summers. But there are SO many things I love about Memphis. And I kind of don't wanna leave. There's BBQ and the Tigers and the Redbirds and the Levitt Shell. Downtown and Main Street and midtown and Lakeland and Shelby Farms. The museums, the ease of travel, the zoo, the local music scene. Our church, our neighborhood, our school, our friends. People who are making a difference and who care about changing the things that suck into the things we can be proud of. Can't change the hot summers, but we sure can suffer through them together, cooling off in pools and sprinklers, drinking cold beers together while we grill out, finding respite in the air conditioning of each other's homes.

Every other move for our family has felt right--right time to move on, ready for a change. With this one, though the pieces are falling beautifully into place, I feel so sad. I have a great extended family and so many of them are right here. I love that my kids see my parents so often, that Dad can call and ask if maybe he can just whisk 'em away to the zoo for the afternoon, that my mom can roll cookie dough with them for the holidays, that there are cousins two blocks away. Our neighborhood is fun and festive and full of kids. The children adore their school, and we're confident they're learning a lot there. We have friends--individual friends and couple friends and family friends, from church and school (old and new) and sports and the neighborhood and childhood and work. I know we'll keep in touch with our Memphis friends, but it won't be the same. We'll have Facebook and email and the phone and visits back "home" but it won't be the same. And that will be sad.

The closer we get to August 25, the more I cry--and not just because I hate to pack. Though I know a great adventure awaits, and that God has a plan for our family, I still mourn the loss of what we have in Memphis. It won't be the same; it will be different. But maybe, just maybe, it will be different in some really good ways. And we'll always have the memories of good times in The Bluff City with some of the best people in the whole world.