After spending most of the last two years living like an expat, I’m finally settled in Ohio, my new home. As in permanent residence. As in changing every bit of legal paper and accounts. As in the true badge of residency: an Ohio driver’s license.
While that may not seem like much, I’ve held a Texas driver’s license since 1971. For some of you, that’s before you were born, no doubt! So no small change for this boy. All of it welcomed, all of it good, of course.
For the last two years I’ve bought this and thats, knowing I had the same thing back in Texas, but needing it in Ohio. I’ve missed my books, far away and out of reach, but now sitting quietly on my shelves as though no time had passed. After this long without my “stuff,” it was almost like Christmas unpacking the boxes once they finally made it to my loft apartment.
I’ve been nomadic most of my life, having the fortune of being a military brat until high school. Later life didn’t keep me in one place very long either, although I managed to stay confined within the Lone Star State. Lots of good memories from there, lots of friends made and lost, and significant events. Both my babies were born there (babies…ha…they’re both taller than me, driving, and about to be unleashed upon the world). But it’s nice to finally feel settled. New job, new digs, new friends, new places to explore, new winters to endure…a little bit of everything. Settled. It’s a comfy word.