As we are just about through the first week of December, I realize that this is the third Christmas spent here in Old Florida. For those who may not know, I moved here two years after the passing of my husband, Rich.

I was content in the home in Southeast Georgia that Rich and I purchased in late January 2020, but after my father passed, and my mom transferred to an assisted living facility in New York State, I became increasingly restless. Not ready to give up all that I’d established in my new community, I took to looking for a second home where I could get away when I needed to, and rent at other times to help pay for it.

In my search, I became obsessed with a sweet log home situated in a town most people, even native Floridians, had never heard of in Northeast Florida. I’d always joked with Rich about finding a log cabin somewhere near St. Augustine where one can still get a quick hint of winter when the temperatures drop below 70 before another swelter season gets ready to ramp up.

I guess the joke was on me, for long story short, on one very warm summer day in August 2023, with only my dog, Quint in tow, I drove to that small town just to check out that property that was clearly much more than I had in mind; a full house, not just a little cottage, on a full acre.

But, It was just what I’d always hoped to find.

By day’s end, not only had I put an offer on the home, but that offer was accepted by the end of my two-hour ride home. By early September I’d closed, then found a couple to rent my home in Georgia. In the middle of all of this movement, my mother suffered a stroke, passing three months later. I knew she was happy that I was rebuilding my life, but expressed regret that she would never get to visit.

My renters moved out the following year and I put our Georgia Dream House up for sale and prepared to move its contents to a another home I’d purchased on a canal just off the St. John’s River earlier in the year. On a day before that content move, however, I was approached by a family in need of a furnished rental as their home had been destroyed by a fire. I cancelled the movers and prepared for new tenants.

Now, that family is in the process of returning to their newly rebuilt home that has risen from the ashes. I wish them well and now will return to set the scene for new “players” on that stage called home. Part of me feels the need to say farewell to the house that I now see as the stepping stone to my current life. There are too many incidents and “coincidences” to relay here surrounding that place, but somehow out of some many losses, I was lead to this new life in a very unlikely place.

This month, I’m just trying to slow down and enjoy the cooler seasonal temps and spectacular sunsets out on a lake. It’s such an idyllic setting that I feel like I live in a national park. I enjoy the many walks I take with my dogs and I know they love it here, too. I’ve finished a memoir and I’m drafting another book, just completed an artistic commission and I’m fully ensconced in volunteering for a local rescue group that is on the brink of bringing some positive change for animal welfare in this region. These are all part of my steps forward.

As John Lennon said, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t make them, but best to have many alternatives and be proactive if you can.

I know that despite the upheaval in my life, I’m fortunate to have options. Many do not. I’ve come to truly appreciate the rural nature of this area, and it has helped me to recenter. I do see change coming here, however, and I hope this place never loses its rustic charm. Next week, I begin my visits back up to Georgia, my Wild Card of a home that has gone through many changes of its own. Let’s see what it has planned next for me.