I’m Moving: The New England Chapter

The secret has already been revealed, especially to all my friends and social media followers. I made the bittersweet decision to move back up to New England. This decision was far from easy and the single most challenging decision I’ve had to make since Matt’s death. I have a lot of thoughts around this choice. I know many of you had questions around it as well; so, I’m going to dig into the nitty gritty and explain the why and how I came about committing to this astronomical change.   

When I sold my house and decided to rent, I chose to do this because I needed time, less responsibility, and a temporary, commitment-less space to sort through all of the moving pieces in my upheaved life.

Some of you may recall that, earlier this year, I received a few questions on social media, asking me if I planned on staying in Baltimore, long-term, or if I planned on moving back to New England. I was pretty steadfast, at the time, regarding my plan to stay in Baltimore.  The thought of moving anywhere outside a five mile radius of my beloved SoBo community seemed ridiculous. Why would I move? I’ve lived here for over nine years; the longest I’ve lived anywhere as an adult. Most of our tribe is here; most of our memories are here; I could easily walk from my apartment building in Locust Point to Admiral’s Cup in Fells Point with a blindfold on and know exactly where to turn and when (which I clearly would never do…I don’t even walk with both headphones in my ears). Everything that is “us” is here…and I didn’t want any of that change. So much had already been ripped away from me.  I grasped onto every ounce of what once was. After experiencing more loss and trauma in the past two years than I have in my entire life, I just wanted familiarity and I wanted, so badly, for everything to mimic our past chapter. But that, my friends, is a losing battle.

Nothing is the same. It’s not supposed to be.

There will always be a gaping hole that will remain unfilled, and the harder I try to suppress that, the harder it is for me to keep moving forward. My life is completely different now; all of our lives are completely different now. A small part of me thought that if I could recreate our past environment, it would help me heal and that, perhaps, I would feel less pain. A small part of me feared that leaving Baltimore would signify leaving Matt behind; how could I do that?? He was my life. A small part of me thought that if I left, all of our friends would forget Matt. Totally irrational, but I think that, subconsciously, I feared that. In my mind, leaving Baltimore meant leaving behind  the life we built together. That felt non-negotiable. 

Leaving Baltimore also meant leaving behind the “should be.” 

This was not part of our plan. We “should be” raising our kids with my brother-in-law and sister-in-law living  15 minutes down the road. Close in age, the “Sgambato cousins” were destined to rule their high school together. Christmas would always be in Maryland, and we’d probably venture up to New England for Thanksgiving. Judi and I should be breaking up the wrestling matches that inevitably find their way into almost every holiday together. We’d coordinate our travels up to visit our Sgambato family, and Judi and I would text each other about the inherited and inevitable road rage fuming from the drivers seats during these travels.

With all of our friends having kids around the same time, we should have our “cool parents” club, as the future generation of HsigmaO grew into “mini-me’s” of their predecessors. Matt should be freaking out about fingerprints on the windows and television, and I should have a few words about his late night fire pit sessions with the boys that kept half the neighborhood awake and persuaded Bryson to stay up past his bedtime. We should be coordinating parents nights out and family nights in together. 

We should be scheduling  our gym sessions so we could each get our workout in while our counterpart watched the kids (because we planned on having more than one child). Soup Sunday should still be a staple, and we should be hounding my mom every time she sends down care packages with oatmeal raisin cookies claiming that “they’re healthy because they have oatmeal in them.” I should be insisting we go to the pumpkin patch this year, and Matt should be buying me the smallest pumpkin possible at Harris Teeter to avoid actually having to waste a weekend day going to a pumpkin patch. Matt should be cuddling Charlie while we battle it out on Jeopardy, both laughinh at how we pause on answers in fear of blurting out the wrong one.  We should be enjoying a glass of wine together once the kids are in bed, reflecting on how lucky we are. 

I could keep going on about all the “should be’s,” but this is not my reality.

And, perhaps, I can even venture to say, it shouldn’t be…because it’s not. I will never move forward by living in the “should be” phase. Life is not following our master plan. Does it ever? What worked for us before doesn’t work for me now. Not as a solo, working mom trying to reconstruct her life. Living amidst the memories in and of itself is bittersweet. We will always be Matt and Christina here in Baltimore. And that’s ok. That is special. Matt will always be a big part of my life and an even bigger part of my heart. It’s because of our unconditional love, I know how supportive he is of me finding happiness, adapting, and allowing the new pages of my book to unfold. I know how proud he is of me for making decisions that are best for Bryson and for our family. I know that regardless of life not turing out as we planned, he will always be my number one supporter and cheerleader (aside from my Nonna), wherever he may be and wherever my road takes me. 

Right now, it’s taking me back up to New England.

It is in my native region, where I have two sets of grandparents and a large network of family members eager to play an active role in Bryson’s life and help me balance momhood (and dog-momhood), work, A Matter of Hope, self-care, and a social life. I hate admitting this, but I need help. I think we all do at one point or another, and this is the time I’m calling for it. I am incredibly lucky to have one of the strongest support networks down here that a girl can ask for; each and every one of my Baltimore friends and family members has played an intricate role in not only helping me through this year, but in growing into a strong, compassionate, and confident woman. I know that because of this, because of all we’ve been through together and how much we truly care for one another, this is not the end of our chapter. It’s just another page. 

Now, I shift my focus on our future. In the spirit of being close to both sets of grandparents, and without losing my walkable community with shops, parks, dining, etc., I landed in West Hartford, CT.  I am embracing this move to a totally new place. I’m excited to embed our roots in a family-friendly neighborhood, with a yard Charlie can release some of his age-inappropriate energy; I’m even excited for the renovations and home improvements I’ll be doing over the next couple of months.  I’m excited for fresh sites, sounds, and a fresh start.  I’m excited to be closer to my New England friends and family and to begin making new memories with them.  Sara’s been trying to get me to do this for years, so if you’re reading this, you’re welcome. I’m excited for my Baltimore family to visit me and for our future facetime sessions; I’m also excited to crash in your guest rooms when I visit, especially for A Matter of Hope, which will remain in Baltimore.  I’m excited to make new friends and meet new people who aren’t so ingrained in my past chapter.  I’m looking forward to Ralphs beach house during the summer and the Sturbridge Common on Halloween weekend . I’m really excited for the occasional break (thank you grandparents) from everything.

Most of all, I’m excited for stability, for both myself and, most important, for Bryson. We’ve experienced so much change, so much grief, so much sadness,  so much anger, and so much loss these past two years. It is time for some grounding, to dig our heels in, establish roots, and grow. 

So there you have it. This is the first installment in my “Moving Forward” series.

I have some house renovations on the way, a new job, and more little pieces that play a big role in moving forward, of which I’ll chronicle in this series. I’m ecstatic to document the day and bring you all along for the ride. 

I’m going to close out this blog post with lyrics from a song by Maroon 5 that seems to be playing on the radio LITERALLY every time I turn the car on. I’m not one to quote songs in my blog, but it’s so relevant to everything that has brought me here today:

“There’s a time that I remember, when I did not know no pain

When I believed in forever, and everything would stay the same

Now my heart feel like December when somebody say your name

‘Cause I can’t reach out to call you, but I know I will one day…

There’s a time that I remember when I never felt so lost

When I felt all of the hatred was too powerful to stop

Now my heart feel like an ember and it’s lighting up the dark

I’ll carry these torches for ya that you know I’ll never drop.”

Until next time friends, 

Xtina