In anticipation of our move, my mom and sisters bought beds and dressers, and as though they were putting a puzzle together, they somehow set up my parents' guest room to accommodate the kids and me.
I remember how excited they were to be able to have it all ready for us. The room was so pretty. So sweet, with so much love poured into it.
I was so grateful. Overwhelmed with gratitude, really. So I was left somewhat bewildered when my feelings at the time didn't reflect the thankfulness in my soul. Instead, I felt numb. Like I had to work to make my face smile in response to the joy their faces all showed.
It was one of the first of many moments where I would catch myself stuck. Stuck somewhere between happiness and sorrow. A paradox of emotions.
I had left my husband A separation for the sake of reconciliation. My hope being that with a separation, counseling, and restructuring of how our lives had been before, we could later reconcile and raise a happy, healthy family.
We lived separated in Nebraska for a few months. I needed to move the kids and me out of our country home, and into a house of my own in town. I feared the seclusion of the country, paired with my husband's behavior.
I had always been an at-home mom, but I had to get a part-time job at the hospital in town, so that I could support the kids and myself. I worked as a cook's assistant.
The older kids were too aware of our circumstances, and too hurt and broken to properly care for the younger ones while I worked. The balancing act I had to perform by working outside the home with a hurting14 year-old, 12 year-old, 8 year-old, and 20 month-old left my side of the family here in California feeling that the kids and I would be better off closer to them, so that we could heal, and benefit from the support of family.
So we left Nebraska, the only home my children knew. The state Adam, Abi, and Lee were born in.
The kids were excited about the move to California. About being with their cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. It was nice to see them excited. So when we went to bed that first night, my conflicting emotions melted as I cuddled my baby Lee, resting in my parents' house. We were safe. We were going to be OK.
Maybe it's because I'm a firstborn, maybe it is my genetic make-up, but whatever it is, I am very independent. The sense of being a burden nagged at me as time passed. It got more intense with each passing month. Though I enjoyed the time with my parents and my kids, working on their emotional hurts while I worked on mine, I knew I needed to find a way to support the kids and myself, so that we could move out of my parents' home, and on with our life. This was my obsession. All I thought about.
And I think, as I look back with a clear head and that it was my feeble attempt at establishing a deep need of normalcy, or to at least create a new normal for us. With hindsight, I see that what we needed was more time to heal. But in the midst of it, with all of the Topsy-turvey ranges of emotions, I was left short-sighted. All I could see was that need to support my children, and give them a home of our own.
After living with my parents for ten months, we moved to a beautiful little townhouse a few miles away that I was able to rent. I had gotten a job at a local country club working as a server. I was getting great hours, and doing very well with tips. It was enough to cover our monthly expenses.
At that point, we had lived in California for almost a year. My husband decided to join us in California, so he moved from Nebraska. At first he stayed with his relatives, but our year apart, as well as extensive counseling, proved fruitful for my husband. He was different from before. More nice. More happy. To make life as close to normal as we could for the kids, I asked him to move in with us. We lived in separate bedrooms like roommates, but the kids had both parents under one roof. It was looking like we would be able to reconcile.
But, as time passed, his anger started to show itself again.
He wanted for us to move back to Nebraska. Many of our family and friends advised us against it, or at least they advised us to continue to pursue a more complete recovery from our old habits before we moved away. My husband had extreme control and anger issues, and I had been very codependent. He had betrayed us by being unfaithful, and I still needed to know that I could trust him. The advice of those who loved us was that we continue to grow before moving away, so that we wouldn't revert back to how we had been before.
This advice brought a level of anger and resentment from my husband that was so great, it started affecting the children. I had one of the kids cry to me and say that Daddy was angry again. She was afraid of it, but at the same time was also afraid that we would have to leave him again, and she didn't want to face what that would inevitably mean. The dysfunction of codependency and enabling behaviors were rearing their ugly head in the behaviors of my daughter.
I would not raise my children in this kind of dysfunction and fear. I told my husband that I was going to file for divorce.
We had been living in the beautiful townhouse for only one year. But, my hours had been cut at the country club, and I wasn't making enough to cover the $2,050 per month rent. Even with my second job as a server at a Hawaiian restaurant.
So, we moved. We moved into a 4 bedroom house around the corner from my parents' house. My husband and Adam moved out a few months later.
I got a new job as an office manager for an engineering firm. With this job, I would make enough to support my children and myself. I quit my job at the country club, but kept the second job so that I could make extra money to pay off debt.
After 2 months at the engineering firm, I was laid off. My boss couldn't make payroll. It was the Friday before Christmas.
I picked-up as many hours as I could at the Hawaiian restaurant. I got another part-time job working as a promotional model a weekend or two a month. It still wasn't enough.
After a year in the house around the corner from my parents, I found a tiny 2-bedroom condo I could afford. Rent was just over $1,000 per month. Our next door neighbor was an L.A. gang leader.
LET'S RECAP, SHALL WE?
We moved from our country house in Nebraska, to a house in town in early 2006, to my parents' guest room in California in the summer of 2006. We moved to the beautiful townhouse in the spring of 2007. We moved to the 4-bedroom house around the corner from my parents in the spring of 2008. And we moved to the tiny 2-bedroom condo in the spring of 2009.
That's 5 different homes in 3 years.
Hugo and I started dating in the fall of 2009. We married on Valentine's Day in 2010. It was a fast courtship, and a quick engagement. Not what the professionals would advise, but it worked for us. Yes, we have had to put in some extra work on the already-married end as the result of our speedy pre-married relationship, but it has been work that has been well worth the effort, leaving us strong and healthy.
Challenges aren't always all bad.
Lee is very insecure about moving. To him, it is normal to move every year. We moved to my parents' house when he was 1, to the beautiful townhouse when he was 2, to the house around the corner from my parents' when he was 3, to the tiny condo in the ghetto when he was 4, and to Glendora when he was 5.
He will be 8 in December. We're still here.
But, he asks if we will have to move, even still. He asked this last weekend while we were driving. Wanted to make Hugo and me promise that we will live in this house until we die. When we're old.
He then asked when we will be done paying for our house. We told him that we would be done when he is thirty-five. He stared blankly out the car window. So did we, I think. Yikes.
Hugo and I can't seriously promise Lee that we will stay in our house until we are old. Who can say for sure where life is going to lead? But when I remember that drive I had to give my kids security, a home, and a healthy life, I realize just how far God has brought us.
He brought me back home to my family in California. My children to their cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. He brought us Hugo. And more grandparents, aunts, uncles, and a soon-to-be cousin.
He brought us to Glendora. And He brought us to this house we won't have paid off until 2040, but we are so very happy we have.
Hugo and I are raising a happy, healthy family. The hope I had from the start. At the time I didn't realize that it would take divorce and the remarriage to a man up for the job to bring it, but since when do I have to know exactly how God will bring a prayer and hope to reality? He saw my deepest desires for my family met, and He did it His way. His perfect way.
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