There was not a more poetic way to usher in 2022. On New Year’s Eve day Lee and I boarded a one way flight to Spain. We were not sure if our midnight countdown was Spanish time or Chicago time. In a Twilight Zone curiosity, I asked myself when exactly did our 2021 end, and 2022 begin? Either way, we did it. We were moving to Valencia with only our luggage.
Tracking the Journey: Chicago to Madrid, Madrid to Valencia
If not now, then when? We are in our late 50’s and knowing this is where we wanted to spend our third act. Lee’s passion for Spain started during her first visit in her 20s. Over time she made passing comments while quietly researching. No one in our inner circle was completely surprised when we announced our move.
Life’s greatest regrets are risks not taken. I look upon failed risks with a sort of nostalgia. But not acting is a relentless affliction. In March 2021, burnt out from her job, Lee joined America's “Great Resignation” freeing us for the focused tasks that lay ahead. And the courage to do it.
Unbolting from American life is daunting. Submitting our visa applications required attention to detail, timely dependencies, and careful interpretation. Setting our consulate appointment online was nerve racking. We had to decide where to live, secure a lease, declutter, hire a realtor, stage our home, list it, sell it, store belongings, close accounts, open accounts, donate items, change phone numbers, pack (wash, rinse, repeat). All while continuing with my photography. Ironically, the closer to departure, the more my activity picked up. Go figure.
Never mind the distractions such as my dentist disappearing the week of an oral procedure. Learning to pivot was our new dance move. While busy saying our goodbyes to family and friends we had enough dinners and drinks-out that my future Mediterranean diet would be a necessary lifestyle change.
Despite our self-imposed end-of-year move date, we could only handle what was immediately at hand. Any more was overwhelming. Like laying railroad tracks ten feet in front of a moving train, the pressure was on. The wheels were in motion. Yet each day reinforced that the move would actually happen.
Packing like a well played game of Tetris
We had what it took to get the job done: partnership, passion, persistence and planning. Therein lies the magic. While diligently working the tasks, we had angels on our shoulders. Something beyond logic took over. Everything timed out exceptionally well. We were “in the flow”. Confirming this move was meant to be. Every carload to storage fit like a well played game of Tetris. On faith, we accepted the vendors’ home repair schedule, not ours. Doubting we would be ready for them, later we were in awe at the impeccable timing. I even served eight days of Federal jury duty the same weeks we staged and listed our home. I was grateful for having served my civic duty while still stateside. It all worked out.
The biggest milestone: selling our Dearborn Tower condo
Hiring our realtor, and friend Carolyn was a great decision. Our closing eked in at the end of the home-buying season. Near our asking price, the buyer even purchased the furniture. It was seamless, like the lost verses of Paul Simon’s 50 Ways To Leave Your Lover:
“Drive out of the garage, Rodge, down the street Pete, rent a space Grace, and set yourself free. Book your flight, Dwight, direct to Spain, Jane, just you and me, Lee and set yourself free.”
Next, we rented a room around the block from our friend and neighbor Kathy. By moving in the same street-parking zone, we dodged a city hall ring-of-hell. Our belongings were in various stages of gifting, storing, donating, packing or selling. By departure everything neatly fit in a 5’x7’ storage unit. Temporarily in a dorm room-like lifestyle, we achieved a great downsizing!
Holding onto faith, we had not received our visas yet and dared not entertain “what if”. With no backup plan, it was a particularly grateful Thanksgiving weekend when they arrived. Book flights! Fastforward, we skirted weather and COVID-related flight cancellations by mere hours. The travel gods shined favor on us.
The Suber-Dude Abides hands over the keys to The Subar-Dudess Abides
Reboot: Version 2.0 The Subar-Dudess Abides
Even selling our car was well timed. The day before leaving, our friends John and Yva purchased it. The transition was whimsical. Like preparing me for a somber facts-of-life-talk, Yva sat me down and gently informed me she was renaming the Subaru that I notoriously anointed The Suber-Dude Abides.
To claim we did all of this on our own is disingenuous. Our neighbor Ruth took us in when the floors were refurbished. We hired our friend Jack to paint. My creative partner Paul helped scale down my camera gear. Lee’s moms, brother and family helped in numerous ways. The Joens, my god-parent’s family, as my own, were there every step. Including Bob driving us to the airport. A list of many helped by sharing referrals, ideas and antidotes including newly formed Valencia-bound Facebook friends.
Most endearing was witnessing my wife regain her personal sovereignty with a renewed, post-employment purpose.And if that ain’t scintillating, what is? Between this and lockdown, we had never spent more continual time together. We complimented each other and worked together as a team. An air of romance rekindled like honeymooners savoring decisions and anticipating what the future could hold. Nothing like achieving a goal bigger than either one of us to further our love and admiration.
A key spiritual aspiration that weighed in was non-attachment. Our ability to let go of belongings, clients, gigs, successes, routines, mobility, securities, and everything that was familiar in our comfortable life.
The first sign in Spain that affirmed our efforts.
Within days of arriving in Valencia, I noticed a wall plaque at our local bike shop proclaiming the familiar phrase “The Journey Is The Destination”. These words rang close to my heart.This summed up the magic of what was unfolding. The months of rigorous planning and work is when the adventure began.