“There are two lasting bequests we can give our children: one is roots, the other is wings.” – Hodding Carter (1907 – 1972), Southern US progressive journalist and author.
As I travel around the world, I often meet people who have never left their own little corner of it – whether that is a village somewhere, or one of the metropolises of the world. My oldest, dearest friend’s mother was just one such person: she never, in her entire life, left the shores of that tiny island called Great Britain. For one thing, she had a pathological fear of flying. For another, she was scared of boats and being on the water – ironic, considering she grew up in a seaside town and loved playing on the beach & the boardwalk as a child. Yet her son, my friend, travels as often and as much as his budget and his vacation allowance let him do – in the last several months, he and his friend have traveled to the Maldives in the Indian Ocean, to Spain to visit friends to check in on the property they own there, and to the moors of Cornwall, in southwestern England – not to mention FINALLY making use of their 2008 Christmas present from me: a coupon good for one night’s stay in a converted barn.
Then you come to me, and I’ve traveled almost more than I’ve stayed put in any one place. My younger brother and I were talking recently; when our father passed away 10 years ago, I inherited the tallboy cabinet that had stood in our kitchen for many years, and that Dad had claimed when he & my mother split up. At the time, Henry had more money than I did, and so he paid to ship the tallboy back to his home in Pennsylvania – where, promptly, it took up residence in his home and his (now ex-) wife filled it with their wedding china etc. Now that they are divorced, Henry has packed all his things into a transportable pod – including the tallboy – and sent them to storage. When I asked him about it, his response was that I could have the tallboy when I stayed in one place for more than 5 years at a time!
Looking back, the most uninterrupted time I’ve ever lived in one place was the home I spent the majority of my growing-up years in. It was a mid-terrace, 4-bedroom, 1 ½ bathroom house with a postage stamp front yard. We moved there the year I was 8 – 1977 – and I left for the first extended period of time when I was 16 – that was my year in Italy as a foreign exchange student. (Watch for a blog on that experience in the future – it’s one I firmly believe every teenager should have!) My brother and I finally agreed that “one place” could mean one country – the likelihood of my spending 5 years in one town or city anytime in the foreseeable future is remote indeed!
Which brings me to my latest – and, who knows? – greatest adventure. As Ponnie has already made you aware, I will shortly be relocating back to Europe – shortly, as in three weeks from now. Home is once again going to be England, this time in a town just outside of London called Reading (pronounced Redding), where two dear friends of mine bought a house last year, the third bedroom in which they have kindly agreed to rent me – and are currently generously decorating for me! My work, however, will take me all over Europe, the Middle East & Africa, as I will be traveling around conducting mystery shops and quality evaluations of hotel properties all across that region. I will be spending approximately 250 days a year on the road, starting on April 19th, with between 6 - 10 days a month at home in Reading. Hopefully I will get to go to many places I’ve never been before as well as some that I have (I know my friends in Spain, Italy and Egypt are eagerly awaiting my visits!), and will be able to make use of my languages – who knows, I may even get to learn a new one or three!
My roots will always be here in America – in my heart of hearts, I am an American girl both by birth and by identity – but it seems that my wings always take me overseas!
Blessings & Hugs
Esther-Marie
I hope to be back to share with you on Thursday, April 22nd...hope to see you then!
Saturday's Blog: Pat, "Words of Wisdom"
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