France in the Rear View

When I was rereading some of my old posts, I came across one where I said I imagined someday I would be writing about France in the rearview, and now I’m doing just that. I am home – in San Diego. I should say my other home, since I left much of my heart in France. It’s funny because when I was in France for those years, I felt like I lost myself, the person who I thought I was. But now that I’m back home in San Diego, I miss the me I was in France. Interesting times settling back in and figuring out how to incorporate all these feelings and experiences into my life now.

It’s been so long since I’ve written anything – my last post ended on the day we arrived in France in January 2020. I never even got to the middle part…..the actual stories from our time in France – the whole point of starting “Adventures in an Ordinary Life”!

So, yes… I am back in the US. We got back in January – almost exactly 4 years after we arrived in France. It occurred to me, that while most of the people in my life know that I have left France, there are some that still think I’m there! So, probably good time for a little update. It’s taken some time to get settled and feel like my feet are firmly planted on the ground. I’m going to make this a quick post since I’m finding it hard to make time to write now that I’m caught up in living a bustling American life again. I still want to share about our time in France. It reshaped my life in so many ways. We learned so much, created a rich and full life and cultivated some beautiful friendships that I think will last for the rest of our lifetimes. Indeed, I was blessed by these Adventures in an Ordinary Life – my life.

When we made the decision to return, I struggled with guilt and even some shame that we were throwing in the towel. But I realized that we did an extraordinary thing! We started an entirely new life in a foreign country and we’re tremendously proud of that. A tiny seed of an idea bloomed into some very elaborate planning, and then we did it! We actually did it……for four years! It took a while, but now I know that there’s no shame in moving back. We only have one go-round in this life. We have to take these leaps of faith while we can.

Indeed it was a magical four years, but despite the magic, I struggled.  In pursuing our adventure in France, I felt like I lost a big part of myself – the fully formed person I used to be.  Depositing this Southern California gal in the middle of rural France was a huge  adjustment for me.  I missed my family, my friends and my busy town. I recognized quickly that a big part of my struggle was that I wasn’t  working.  I missed my purpose, my autonomy, my identity, and not using my brain in the way I did for over 20 years.  Our French life was  serene and peaceful, but maybe too much so for me.  Without enough mental stimulation, my brain turned to mush.  It’s absolutely true that I could have tired harder, much harder, but in the state I found myself in, it was hard to get or stay motivated. Throw in a pesky pandemic, and after a year or so in to our French adventure, I had to admit to myself that I had become profoundly depressed. I felt physically unhealthy, my brain dull, my emotions blunted – like I was only partly there. 

I thought that as time went on I’d snap out of my nonsense and things would get better – and in many ways it did. But then something that became very telling to me – kind of silly, but still telling, none the less – each year, as my Facebook memories from our first year in France came up, I realized that I could have written much of the same things as each year passed.  I saw that my emotional and mental challenges from that first year remained very much the same, year after year.  

Please understand, I didn’t feel terrible all the time.  I had an extremely good life in France.  We bought an ancient stone house in Beaulieu-sur-Dordogne, a  village founded in the ninth century.  A small and magical place – just as you might imagine a historic French village to be.  Almost everything we needed was a 1-3 minute walk away – doctor, pharmacie, boulangerie, bank, hairdresser, little grocery store.  Even after living there for several years, I would still feel waves of disbelief come over me when I’d walk the age-old cobblestone streets or step through the door of my house.  I just couldn’t believe I lived in such a place.    

The rural countryside where we lived is – to me – one of the most strikingly beautiful places in the world.  The country roads wind through dense woodland and vast pastures, passing by our sweet and curious  Limousin cows. Sometimes when I would look out at the green hills dotted with sheep or the white limestone cliffs rising up from the Dordogne River, my heart would catch a little just witnessing the peaceful beauty.  I really can’t explain it, but the light is different there.  An artist might be capable of describing such light, but maybe it’s something that needs to be seen to truly understand.

Our multinational group of friends in France are the most genuine, authentic, generous and unique people on the planet.  These friendships grew so deep in just a few short years.  We were humbled to be accepted so quickly and so completely.  Maybe it’s living in a rural community where people need to rely on each other. They truly show up for each other – in good times and bad, oftentimes at a moment’s notice.  Now, I can barely think of these dear people without getting a huge lump in my throat.  Same goes when I think about a few special animal souls I found deep connections with. They fill my heart as much as my human friends.

So, to catch up a bit…..2023 was rough. There were many joyful moments in a busy year full of visitors and travel, but it was also the year we lost a dear friend and our precious pup. I was running fast and hard, trying to carry on, especially knowing our time in France was coming to a close. But the grief was so heavy – all of the time. I couldn’t escape the pain and I could feel myself unraveling although I thought I was keeping it together – at least outwardly. Later, it came to my attention – quite painfully – that I was not.

Leaving France in January was so hard! The goodbyes were excruciating. In those last few weeks in France, I felt such ease as the desperation to escape vanished. Made me feel like maybe we should stay. But when I let my mind wander and look at what staying would be like, I knew that I had to go back. Even while feeling so cozy in my French home – in my sweatpants and enjoying fires every night, I knew that what I had missed from my old life would still be missing. It really was time to go home.

So, back to San Diego we went. It felt so odd that I wouldn’t be packing my suitcase again and getting back on a plane for the long trip back. I felt like I was floating, untethered once again. After so much time pining for my old San Diego life, I had so many confusing feelings about my time in France being over. However, it didn’t take long to feel the ease of being back on familiar ground. It felt so right to be back here. Even in the mundane I felt like myself again. Shopping at Trader Joe’s in yoga pants and flip flops, take out Thai food, the ease of a simple phone call to the cable company (in English!) just felt good. Even sitting in traffic and muttering to myself “pick a lane Fuckhead” felt so normal. This is where I belong.

A couple weeks later, on our first night in our rented condo – in the very same La Playa neighborhood we left four years before, we slept in our same bed (that had been in storage), smelled the familiar salt air and listened to the the sea lions barking. It was all so surreal. Did France really happen? It all felt like a crazy dream.

I went back to work at my old hospital – so grateful they hired back an old, out of practice nurse. Another very strange – and wonderful – experience. To be back inside those familiar walls with such a warm welcome from my work family and the joyful surprise hugs from people who didn’t know I was coming, and yet feel so awkward and unsure of myself – like the new grad I was 25 years ago. I started working in the operating room – mainly because I was offered a preferred schedule. That quickly devolved into a very negative experience. I shouldn’t have been surprised, having worked there a dozen years ago with the same result. Yet, I was optimistic. I did my best to read the room, find my place and reacquaint myself to a department I hadn’t worked in for a very long time. I think in my extreme gratitude for being hired back and my desire to be nice and agreeable made me more of a target than an asset. A shame, really, because I believe there is room for kindness and skill. The OR is notorious for bullies and WOW did I get the full treatment. Never, in 25 years had I ever experienced such a thing. I pride myself in being able to get along in whatever situation I find myself in and I actually enjoy the challenge of winning over salty people, but there was no victory to be had. I am easy going and I rarely get very angry…..until I do. Then it was “peace out, bitches” and I chose to move on. To be fair, there are also many kind and wonderful people there, but a couple of bad apples and a toxic culture that continues to be tolerated soured the whole damn thing.

Anyway….onward – back to labor and delivery – my true roots in nursing. Again, grateful for the job, but much more clear that I deserve to be there even after being away for a long time. I have the knowledge and the instincts to care for my patients, and very well, I might add. I just need a little more time under my belt to find my usual speedy flow again. What difference being back in labor and delivery! Such a sisterhood – a real family. I believe it’s just the nature of this type of nursing brings together a much happier and nurturing group. Oh, but full time labor and delivery night shift ain’t for sissies! It’s a hard job and a real adjustment after years of mental idleness, but I’m up for it. It just feels right. I’m finding another lost part of me again.

If I thought that 2023 was a real downer, it didn’t even compare to the gut punch that 2024 brought. There were all of the expected challenges of yet another big relocation but there were also more losses – another dear friend and a close family member. I also endured an unexpected heartache that brought me to my knees. Between that emotional blow, the shit show that my initial job turned out to be and grieving more lost loved ones, I did not think I’d be able to get up again…..but I did. It’s been an ongoing emotional rollercoaster and I have had to wall off my heart in many ways, but I am resilient and I will survive these trying times.

Seeming to be a glutton for punishment and chaos, as soon as the dust was settling and life felt a touch less tumultuous, we had the grand idea to get a new dog. It had been over a year and a half since Parker died and even though I was still having occasional (and sometimes more than occasional) meltdowns from missing him, we thought it was time to start looking for a new pup to share our lives. I always considered myself a true dog person and our home felt empty, so why not start looking? Very quickly we found ourselves mesmerized by a sweet pup with soulful eyes and big floppy ears. He was at the shelter for just a few days, a transplant from Louisiana – a basset mix, they said. Freaking adorable. But dear god….WHAT THE HELL WERE WE THINKING???!!! In our quest to fill our hearts with puppy love, we were forced to confront our stupidity and naiveté. That “emptiness” we were feeling was really just the calm that comes with an orderly life! It’s been 25 years since we had a young puppy. Like pregnancy and a newborn, one forgets the pain and just remembers the cuteness. Oh boy. It has been quite the challenge…..another to add to my pile of challenges this year. You’d think I’d learn! But now, six weeks in, it’s finally, finally, finally starting to get easier with our new little boy….Frank!

So, that’s what’s up for now. I know I skimmed over everything and a lot of it was kind of a bummer, but I wanted to get back to the keyboard and share a little after all this time. I do plan to share more of the stories of my time in France. It truly was an extraordinary experience, although I’m thinking I need to change the name my blog to The FORMER Adventures in an Ordinary Life. I’m just living my ordinary life again, and that’s just the way it should be….for now! We’ll see where life goes from here.

As always….much love and peace to you and thank you for letting me share my thoughts. DON’T FORGET TO VOTE! 😊

❤️☮️ Lisa