Twenty Years in the Northwest

On January 7, 2003, Julian, our two cats, and I caught a flight from Greensboro to Seattle so Julian could start his job at the University of Washington. I don’t remember much about the flight, but I sure remember going through security with Jasper glommed onto me. I still have the divots from his claws in my shoulder. We were met at Sea-Tac by my former roommate Jennifer, who took us to the moving company parking lot to pick up my car. We’d had it shipped west in advance so we didn’t have to rent a car. Jennifer and Zach graciously hosted us until we moved into our rental house. Even more important, they took care of the cats while we flew back to North Carolina to finish packing.

Move-in day was, shall we say, interesting. There was no room in the van for the futon or box spring, so the movers shrink-wrapped them in plastic and tied them to the back of the van. In January, when most of the country has some form of precipitation. As you can imagine, they were both a sodden mess when the van arrived. Julian’s espresso machine was somehow trashed in the van. The worst was Julian’s car. In the rush to secure it in the van, the movers managed to puncture the aluminum oil pan. We weren’t aware of it until we drove across town for lunch and noticed a puddle of oil underneath the car after we ate. Needless to say, there was a hefty damage claim with the movers that was settled without going to court.

The last 20 years have been full of ups and downs. We found ourselves in a neighborhood of great people close to the University and the largest Unitarian Universalist congregation in town. Having an instant network was a great perk, which gave lie to the “Seattle freeze” stereotype of standoffishness. I managed to cobble together freelance writing assignments and part-time teaching at community colleges before I started working at Swedish Medical Center. We moved Julian’s mother to Seattle when it became obvious that she was no longer able to live independently. My mother was able to visit us twice and my sister once, along with several friends from our past lives.

Is the Northwest perfect? No place is. There are days when I regret the nasty traffic, high cost of living, and the bland sameness that’s afflicting the city and suburbs. However, the sight of Mount Rainier on a sunny day never gets old. Nor does watching the traffic on the Sammamish River behind our condo. I think we’re here for the long haul.