There is a great line in the TV Western, “Yellowstone,” starring Kevin Costner. One of the characters who is moving into a new place says something along the lines of, “We can get rid of the jails and prisons. Just punish criminals by making them move instead.”

True, that.

Steve and I have each made a number of residential moves during our lives, including nine relocations together since our marriage in 1996. I’ve always been aware of the fact that “home” means something different to us and than it does to people who stay in the same spot for years. That’s why “Home is Wherever We Are Together” is something of a motif in our family story. It helps us put a good spin on some of our more questionable character traits, like restlessness, impatience and inconstancy, and gives us permission to take the road less traveled by many, but by no means all, of our peers.

I’ve often felt slightly uncomfortable (guilty?) that The Weez doesn’t really have a hometown, much less a childhood home. He was born in Boston, spent his early and middle childhood in Dallas, went to high school in Fairfax, Virginia, and now we live in Washington, D.C., while he is at college. We have had six different family residences during his life so far. In 2022, we will either have none or seven, depending on how you count. The ways in which the peripatetic nature of his formative years will play out in his life remain to be seen. He knows he is loved, and that we believe he is endowed with all he needs to flourish. I hope that’s enough.

In the midst of this 2021 holiday season, sitting in my comfortable apartment and surrounded by my favorite holiday decorations, a pantry housing my treasured baking supplies, a kitchen with our fancy knives, pretty wine glasses and Kitchen-Aid stand mixer (a wedding gift from my grandmother), not to mention our artwork, vital documents and carefully selected bed linens, I’m keenly aware that Steve and I are about to have no fixed address and to be parted from most of our worldly possessions. Indefinitely. Among many other things, I’m wondering:

  • Where will we spend next Thanksgiving and Christmas?
  • How long are we going to do this?
  • Where and when will we ever put down roots?
  • What if one of us gets hit by the proverbial bus?
  • When will we be reunited with the household goods that we are about to put in storage in Georgia?

Of course, the uncertainty is a vital and thrilling component of this whole undertaking. Being retired lawyers is probably an advantage here, as the study and practice of law offer ample opportunities to live with high levels of ambiguity, unpredictability and contingency. I am going to embrace it, and trust that all three of us will fine.