I’ve been awake for three hours. This happens sometimes when I fall asleep early, in this case 8:00 p.m. I wake with an active mind. I desperately need more sleep but I wanted to check the Canadian election results. After that, my brain whirred to life.

We are on the cusp of a new start.

Having left Oregon two weeks ago, today we will arrive in northwest Connecticut. My spouse of 46-years, my 17-year old chihuahua mix, and I will live with our son, daughter-in-law, and two grands until we find a house. I have avoided calling us homeless because of real people who are without housing. All the same, I feel untethered.

We have done this so many times before, moved, but our little house in Oregon was going to be our forever home, our retirement bungalow. We were done moving and Oregon’s Willamette Valley is where core childhood memories and my adult spirit merged into home. I like the northeast but I am most at home in the Northwest.

But grandchildren and, though I don’t often say it as explicitly, adult children and their spouses, trump even Oregon. And, so, New England it is.

As I’ve crossed time zones like cracks in a sidewalk, time has felt arbitrary. Yet, crossing into Indiana and the Eastern time zone felt significant. My remaining and chosen tether of family bounced up like a bungee cord. We had not yet arrived in New England or Pennsylvania (where our other grands, adult child, and her spouse live) but I felt closer. We shared time.

Today, our bungee cord will bring us back to the bridge where we will place our feet on something solid. We will begin living in multigenerational community with family.