security and adventure

I’m not really an adventurer. I prefer to be at home with a book and a cup of tea. I recently saw a mom in our community who said she was following me on Facebook and couldn’t believe all the cool adventurous things I’ve been doing (a lot of travel mostly). I could tell that she envied me a little. It’s so funny because, of course, I envy her. She posts pictures and videos on Facebook of the whole family cleaning the kitchen and singing together. She and her husband designed their beautiful house together and it exudes warmth and security.

So I started thinking about adventure and security.

The summer after my husband died, when my children were away for the night, I would often (and I mean OFTEN) drive to the biggest town in our area, valet park my car and check into the new boutique hotel that had opened. I’d leave my bag on the bed and walk to the local restaurant with the best truffle fries, bring them back to my room, close the curtains and watch television in my underwear. It was an adventure, it was luxurious (and expensive–yikes!). But what I was looking for was a sense of security. I didn’t want to interact with other people, so I didn’t go to a friend’s house. But I didn’t want to be alone in my house either, so I drove to a place that felt safe, a place where I could be taken care of by strangers, where I could sleep in a temperature controlled room with high speed internet and cable and a place close enough to my house so that I could be there in the morning when my children got home. I may have looked like an adventurer, but really, I was looking for comfort, for care, for security–but I was finding those things in an adventure of sorts.

In a few short weeks, I’ll be packing up my youngest daughter for her first year of college, and then I will pack up my house and then myself for a move across the Atlantic Ocean. What will I take and what will I leave? What will bring me comfort and what will remind me of heartache?