The Gypsy Series: Return to the Garden State

I imagine that by now I have unlocked the front door of my new house, shared the moment  of hope with my children for a home to keep for longer than a year, while feeling a small sadness that our journey has reached a long pause.  I anticipate the overall feeling of being able to dream about growing together as a family in one place for a while is overwhelming with happiness and future aspirations.  With our search for a more everlasting home behind us I know that adventure will still seek us. The trees will still call our names into the wild, the calming waters will wash over our souls, and the stars will still guide our dreams.

My heart is a gypsy – continuously searching for a home, fighting within itself, wondering whether it is weak or even right for that matter to be searching in the first place.


This time in New Jersey we lived in Princeton, only 5 miles from the university.  We lived in an old house that was originally an inn in the 1800’s.  It still had all the original doors with the room numbers still attached, the original hard wood floors, windows and stairway which was used as the guiding point for placing a new wall to divide the house in half.  Of the two sides of the house we ended up with the servant kitchen and bed rooms 1-3, with room 3 being turned into a bathroom.  We also had sole control over the attic and found tucked away the sign that once hung outside the front door to welcome all passerby’s on horseback to the Red Lion Inn.

The house had history locked away in the walls, but the current owners had allowed for the house to fall to standards well below what a historical landmark should have been allowed.  It had hidden beauty which was allowed to decay, never having anyone to allow it relive it’s glory days.  Sadly the lack of maintenance in the house was the only reason we could afford it at it’s size and location, but the stories she hide within her walls were not lost on us.  Most the charm of living in Princeton was that it made you believe that you were not in New Jersey, but tucked away in an area still untouched by time.

Downtown Princeton

Downtown Princeton

This time in my life I found myself a bit more miserable than in previous locations.  When I needed a reminder that I was in a place that did contain beauty I would walk through downtown, but honestly this was one of the loneliest and scariest times in my life.  We lived here for a little over two years, much of which I spent on my own.  After moving here my husbands job took him away from us for longer periods of time, one which took him to Guam for a year.  Thing was only 6 months old and the twins 3.  I learned to live a new life, one with much support from family in the area, but one still very much on my own.  When we learned that he was able to come home a couple months earlier we were excited and nervous about what that meant.

There is always beauty to be found in the darkness.  You just need to adjust your vision.

Before we knew it we had an offer to move to Arizona.  The thought of moving to Arizona was immediately received as exciting and the first spark of hope for a longer term home.  I had always enjoyed visiting my father when he lived in Phoenix, falling in love with the cacti, structures, and different vibes felt in the atmosphere.  Already with high hopes we would be relocating to a nature rich area without the desert heat and the mountains at our backdoor.  It seemed as if we had found the perfect new haven.  Within weeks of accepting the offer we had packed our bags and hit the road.


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