I'd been going over and over this in my head lately, but tonight, with a little encouragement and a lot of good points made, I came to my decision and don't feel guilty about it.
Before Jeff and I even became a couple, I knew that he would never move from Connecticut. As an only child, he wants to be there for his parents, when they are in their "golden years". It's something that I've always respected about him. His devotion to family is amazing.
I never had a problem with moving to Connecticut. In fact, I welcomed the idea because many of the things that I want in life, cannot be found here. Other than the fact that Jeff is there, there are museums, galleries, operas, musicals, charities and a much better job selection. I'll be the first to admit that my family ties aren't that strong either. They don't call, they don't come to see me, they really don't make an attempt to learn about what's going on in my life even when I do see them. For quite a while, its been "Connecticut, here I come!" And then, the big blow to the head.
Grandma and I have been getting closer and closer over the last five months. She's been my rock, my confidante, and my most welcomed critic. She never ceases to amaze me, and over the last five months I have developed a new and even more cherished respect for her. I see my own happiness reflected in her eyes when we discuss my upcoming wedding. Aunt Lynda never married and I think that my wanting her to help plan the big event is very exciting for her. But when the talk turns to my moving to Connecticut, she bows her head and talks of great-grandchildren she will not see very often, and how she has to hug me just a little longer each day because soon she won't be able to. I know this hurts her terribly, as her ties to family are as strong as Jeff's.
Then there is the issue of Uncle Ron's health. It won't be much longer before he will need 24 hour care. They have already discussed his moving home, and I know that it will be Grandma that cares for him until he needs to go to a hospital. My parents don't go to see her either, even though they only live a few miles away. God, my immediate family is pathetic. I hate the thought of Grandma doing this alone. I want to be there. I want to help out, and I want Grandma to be able to see her great-grandchildren and spoil them rotten. I don't want to drift away from her, and I sure want to be around when her own health starts to deteriorate.
I brought all of this up to Jeff, and he was very sympathetic, but didn't change his mind about moving out here. Until tonight, I'd still been a little reluctant about moving to CT. I explained the situation to Sheryl, while we were doing what we do best at work: (not a darn thing besides talking and smoking) and she asked me if I wanted her opinion, to which I hesitated and then breathed out a weakened "yes".
"You have to make sacrifices," she said. "I'm sure your grandmother has had to make sacrifices in her lifetime too, and to me, my husband and children come first. I'm not saying that you can't be there if something happens. I'm always there when my extended family needs me."
And for the first time since this started to plague me, I smiled. I remembered Jeff telling me that he'd do everything he could to make sure that we had trips out here, and if something went wrong, and we could afford it, I could come out here with the children and spend a whole summer with Grandma. Sheryl had given me exactly what I needed. Reassurance. I needed to know that by leaving Wisconsin, I wasn't abandoning my family. I didn't want to feel guilty about following my heart.
Thank you, Sheryl.
Connecticut, here I come!
<-- archives -->