* Day 25 *

The house is quiet for the first time in a while. I’m all alone. Sitting at my dining room table for the last time, I start to cry. The last piece of large furniture is sold. The table I always wanted in my home, to have my family sit around and share a meal, is selling for $200. I’m about a week away from moving my entire life to another country. Boxes are everywhere. Walls are bare with spackle drying where we once hung our family pictures. The home doesn’t look like mine anymore. I'm driving a rental car. I drop my spoon into my cereal and sob.

6 months ago, we were contacted about the Albania opportunity. A much-deserved promotion for Sean and a direct result of paying for an international recruiting service to shop his education resume around. Admittedly, I didn’t have a clue where Albania was when he told me the news so I immediately opened up Google Maps. Europe. Near the bottom of the Italy boot. Right across actually. Bordering the Adriatic Sea. Surrounded by countries I’ve always wanted to visit. Natural areas practically untouched. A Mediterranean climate with all the changing seasons. Ok, let’s do it.

We always thought my global marketing gigs would ship us over, but nothing panned out. With our oldest about to enter middle school, now was the time, and it’s happening. Are we crazy? Yes, everyone seems to tell us that, and also that they think we're brave. But we’re really not the first people to do this. I have more than a handful of friends who are living or who have lived the expat life. It’s them who influenced us. Sharing their stories and seeing them raise their families is an inspiration. We want that life.

For the last 6 years, we’ve been trying to get a job opportunity to take us to an international address. Actually, we’ve been trying since we came back from living in Ireland when we were 22. Always having in the back of my mind the way life was there. The life I wanted to get back to. Mental and financial preparation for this moment has been a long journey and now it is happening. I’m a grown adult giddy with excitement. I can feel it in my entire body.

But first, I must do the work. Telling those closest to me and watching their expression shift as I explain we’re moving to a place we've never been. Purging, fixing, cleaning, and preparing the current home to become a rental. Interviewing renters and selecting new inhabitants of our family home of 12 years. Selling off anything that held monetary value, donating what we can, and lots of trips to the dump. Spreading our material possessions all over the metro area. All the paperwork and notary visits. Way too many. Canceling all our local subscriptions and contracts. Unplugging. All the checkups and good bill of health sign offs. Giving notice and packing up our desk box to leave our current jobs. Saying goodbye to our family, friends, community, and as many local spots that we can possibly hit before we board the plane. Countless “last time we’re going to do this for a while” moments, and a sadness coming over us.

And we are there. At the end of the 6 months of work, the emotional and physical toll is evident. The world has moved fast these past few months and we’ve pushed ourselves to our limits. Many heavy conversations and tender feelings of loss. Quitting almost happened over and over again. Doubt circled us daily. I don’t say this for pity. I am affirming that this decision isn’t a light one. I’ve felt lonely and incredibly loved by my surroundings all at the same time. We have built a wonderful home in the NW and it will be missed.

My path in Albania is unknown. No career move defined for me just yet. I've never lived without this basic structure. It's all new to me. I don’t know what will come next, but I am ready. I'm open. To explore, document, learn, love, experience, fail, rebound, and come back.