Easy Come, Easy Go

Last week, I wrote briefly about Sam's decision to accept a position in San Francisco. I was a bit conflicted about the move, but I knew deep down that the job was such a wonderful opportunity. There was no way he could say no. We spent the week (and weekend) packing up our house here in Colorado and preparing to transport all of our things to California.

Late on Sunday, Sam got an e-mail from the company that had hired him saying that they would like to speak with him on the phone. He called back and was informed that they would need to rescind the offer of employment due to a loss of their largest contract. There was no longer a job opening.  I don't know precisely what ran through Sam's mind (obviously, he was upset - and it showed), but what ran through my mind (after the initial, "You're kidding, right" that I actually said out loud) went something like this:
Panic.       Calm.        Anger.      Calm.        Sadness.       Calm.         Irritation.          Calm.           Panic.

*Image here

Yes, the thoughts may have been bookend-ed with "panic," but there was a lot of calm in there as well. Most of any calmness present was for Sam's benefit because the last thing he needed was my frantic craziness that typically surfaces when panic sets in... but soon my brain began to function and I started to think through everything that had transpired. Something good has to come out of this. The universe/God/the collective "we" (whatever you choose to call it) simply cannot be this cruel, can it? Officially, this news meant that Sam had not only lost the opportunity in San Francisco, but in just over a week would no longer have a job here in Colorado.  In turn, there is no consistent income for our household.

We should both be far more distraught than we seem to be. I am a person who believes that everything happens for a reason though, and ultimately good will come from what has seemed some sort of painful, theatrical event. Most of our house had been packed up during the interim between the acceptance and rescinding of the offer. In that time, I cried - a lot. For a person who loves change and enjoys being in different places, I was having a really tough time with the idea of leaving this area. Everything I touched reminded me of something that had happened here, someone I would miss, or a life event that took place while living in Colorado. We were standing in our basement one evening and I had a complete, sobbing fit at one point. I went to bed every night with a tear-stained (drenched) pillow. Sam and I were married here, we have made a life here, and just when I think that I haven't attached to anyone or anything, the universe decides to impart wisdom to show me that in fact I do attach, I do have friends, and a life, and lots and lots of goodness right where I am.

When something like this job and subsequent withdrawal of the offer takes place, it can be difficult to see and understand why, but there is no convincing me that this isn't part of the path we are meant to follow.  I have realized how many wonderful people surround us every day and how fortunate we are to live where we do. We had people who supported Sam's opportunity (our opportunity) and the move, and yet were just as excited to hear we weren't leaving. We've had lots of suggestions of places for Sam to look for alternate employment in the area, and in fact, he's already had two interviews (with another scheduled later in the week). The "right" place will find him and I don't view the San Francisco experience as a loss or a missed opportunity. It happened because it needed to - perhaps, for many reasons.

I needed to see just how much this area is home, to understand that it's okay to put down roots and admit that I don't want to leave. As one of my very wise kickboxing instructors has said to me, "You don't always have to be tough girl (Not that I think I'm tough, but, okay - maybe sometimes I do feel like I have to put up that front)." Sam may have needed the push to leave a job that wasn't healthy for him and to find the actual opportunity that awaits. My partner is a "soldier" who will carry on, despite being unhappy, and while it can be an admirable quality to be able to get through tough times, he may have needed to have no choice but to move forward. I think he's realized just how much he wants to be here as well.

Life is settling back in again, and I am sure there will be bumpy patches as we move forward, but I am so thankful to be remaining here. Thank you to all for your well-wishes in SF, but we'll be staying right where we are - I say, for the time being (of course), and Sam says "forever." Either way, we are happy to continue on, knowing that "It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end." - Hemingway