“Leave home, leave the country, leave the familiar. Only then can routine experience—buying bread, eating vegetables, even saying hello—become new all over again.”
~ Anthony Doerr, Four Seasons In Rome: On Twins, Insomnia and the Biggest Funeral in the World
Some say that saying goodbye is in preparation to say hello. I find that hopeful and comforting.
In fewer than 50 dawns, I’ll be moving for the 22nd time in my life. When I counted all the places that I have lived in for two or more months, the number seemed large. As a teenager, I grew up in one house for sixteen years and yearned to move. Fueled by youthful curiosity and an early desire to start shaping my own life
The places I’ve lived in are a prosaic list starting with Calcutta. Then to Delhi for college and moves within Delhi; Dum Dum (where the Kolkata airport is) where my parents moved to while I was in college. Then to Hazaribagh, Bihar, where they finally settled and from where I left for the Bronx in New York. I ended up living in all the boroughs of New York, except Queens —Manhattan, Bronx, Brooklyn, Staten Island— in the 16 years I lived in the area. In between I resided in two places in Washington, DC, a federal city that didn’t have a subway then and I nonchalantly hitch-hiked often up and down 16th Street in the northwestern part of that city.
The summer before I moved to Washington, I lived in a small town in the northernmost part of Michigan, just under the Upper Peninsula, Petoskey. Two of the people with whom I shared a two-bedroom apartment with (and later in New York and in DC) are a couple who were pivotal to my next (and last) move to Riderwood.
Boston, more specifically Somerville, was a piece of serendipity. Since I don’t believe in fate, serendipity carries a lot of weight. I was well-situated in New York, with a job I absolutely loved and had mastered, and though I had separated a few years before that and my oldest son was very young, I was juggling it all.
When my partner, Pam, asked if I’d consider moving to Boston, I was all against it but saying a categorical “no” wasn’t the right thing. I needed to try. And try, I did.
I asked one of my former employers, Simon & Schuster, for leads in publishing in the Boston area and they suggested a textbook company, Prentice Hall, which S&S owned then. A smaller group from the behemoth in NJ was located outside of Boston and they wanted someone with a background in history and experience in editing for a new project on American history for high schoolers. I could commute from Somerville to Needham (about 14 miles).
I had never worked in textbooks; I had no idea what the market wanted; I had responsibilities that didn’t exist in one role in publishing before. I was editorial as well as in marketing and dealing with the sales force was a paramount task. I hated my boss; this was the beginning of team-oriented projects, and I was in an all-too visible fishbowl. I resented the somnambulism of Boston. I mean, where were the newspaper stands and the coffee carts?!
A section of Riderwood Independent Living campus
It took me about three years. I got a new boss and he provided the opening to run my game. And, boy, did I run. I turned what I thought was a miserable situation into one of the best of my life! After a decade and half, I “commuted” to a job with another textbook company based in Austin, Texas. At one point, I was managing projects in Austin, Boston, New York. I fell in love with Austin. Just before I got laid off in a horrible merger overlapping the financial collapse of 2008, Pam and I seriously considered buying property there.
What followed were long stints in Chicago and remote work from Somerville and Maine.
2020 was a pivotal year. Just as the pandemic was spreading and Trump in his first term was madly tweeting the benefits of hydroxychloroquine and chloroquine as Covid deterrents, I moved back to Somerville.
And this July, I’ll be leaving this house after 31 years and this town after 35 to circle back to Silver Spring, MD, and a new home surrounded by new people, adult children close by, young grandsons as well, and friends from long, long ago.
And what’s required? Willingness to engage, saying hello to my neighbors, and trusting in myself.
All images courtesy of author. Reproductions are prohibited without written permission.
Amit, so you’re moving to an assisted living community? I tried hard to encourage my sister to do that, but she loved her house and found someone to move in with her when she became incapable of driving. And she just died, in the house that she loved. But, what a shame. I think you will find interesting people and community in your new home, and I hope that it feels liberating and not confining.
Not assisted, Edie; independent. There are accommodations for assisted and memory care on campus as well.
Congratulations on your next move! Can we meet for coffee or a walk after you’re at Riderwood? I visit often, as my mother (now 90) has lived there for ten years—it’s wonderful place. Best of luck to you as you venture into this new chapter.
Your mother lives at Riderwood?! How wonderful. I’d love to see you. What we couldn’t do in Boston, we’ll do in Riderwood — meet for coffee. 🙏
I loved reading this, Amit. I’m so grateful to have shared so much of this journey with you: as we used to say, “it’s been a trip!”. I can’t wait to come and check out the exciting new chapter with you. The place looks so beautiful.
♥️♥️♥️♥️🥰🙏✋🏽
Why did I think you were moving to the south of France? Oh, well, guess I’ll need a refund on my ticket. Seriously, for all the reasons you’ve mentioned, this sounds like a great move. Looking forward to coming down for a game or two of shuffleboard! 🙂
Table-tennis and pickle ball!!!
Come down and we’ll walk around admiring the fake Reichstag architecture that’ll be going up soon!
I am delighted to hear that you are continuing your journey by moving near your sons and grandchildren. There’s nothing better than being part of your grandchildren’s lives. You’ll have so many more wonderful adventures to add to your globetrotting. Miss you and think of you often. Stay well and stay in touch my friend.