The Silver Blogger Chronicles 8. Moving

There was a time when Grandma moved frequently. She would barely stay in one place for a few months before we would move on to another. This had its good side because we got to see new things, but the downside was that just when we started to make friends, we had to say goodbye to them, which was always sad.

Then things settled down, my grandmother was able to build a house near the sea in La Guaira, and my father was also able to build ours in the mountains west of Caracas. I spent half of my childhood and all of my adolescence there until I finished university.

When I finished university, I had decided to live independently. I had a girlfriend, and our plans were to live together. I had a job as a teacher and earned enough to support us. I was twenty-one years old.

At that time, the Ministry of Education assigned us our jobs. I was assigned to a small town near Maracay. At that time, I didn't know Maracay or the small town that would be my workplace for many years. Some friends recommended that I settle in Maracay and even found me a room in the home of one of their relatives.

The annex was spacious, well-lit, close to public transportation, and close to all basic services. The truth is that it was quite nice. The owner of the house, who was my friend's aunt, was a very affectionate lady. She let me use the kitchen and assigned me a spot in the refrigerator.

The first thing I did when I arrived was go to a furniture store and buy a double bed. That was the first thing I bought with my teacher's salary.

The first week was disastrous. Sadness was killing me. I would come home from work and go for a walk to clear my mind, but every time I entered my room, I was overcome with melancholy. I eagerly awaited Friday, took my bag to work, and when I finished my duties, I took the first bus to Caracas.

When I arrived in Caracas, I met my girlfriend before going home. We met in a very nice park that was relatively close to the bus terminal. After chatting with her for a while, I continued on to my parents' house. I spent all day Saturday at my girlfriend's house and returned to Maracay at noon on Sunday.

I kept up this routine for about a month and a half, but the sadness never left me. So one fine day, I asked my girlfriend to marry me and come with me to Maracay, and she agreed.

She arranged everything necessary at the civil registry and gave me a date. I asked for time off work, went to Caracas on the agreed day, and we got married, just like that, without much ceremony or wedding celebrations. The next day, I returned to Maracay as a married man.

My girlfriend, now my wife, had a few months left to finish her final year to get her primary school teaching degree, so we had to find a school where she could do that. In Maracay, there was a nuns' high school that offered that program, but the nuns refused to enroll her because she was married.

So we had to find another place in the city of Valencia, forty kilometers from Maracay. I was my wife's representative at that school.

To be closer to my wife's place of study, we moved to Mariara, where my workplace was located. We stayed there until my wife finished her studies. The town was pleasant but had few services, so we decided to return to Maracay.

At that time, I had been offered an apartment in a government-built social housing complex. Teachers had some priority, as did young married couples.

In that apartment, we really managed to establish our home. My two oldest children were born there, and we were all together for fifteen years. Then my wife and I divorced.

Some time passed, and I met my current wife and moved with her to this house where we currently live. We have been here for thirty-five years, we have seen our children grow up here, and we have welcomed our granddaughters. We have managed to have a great life.

When I came to Maracay, I never thought I would love this city so much. Maracay is truly a great place to live. It is a very green area, surrounded by a beautiful mountain, and forty kilometers away are some of the most beautiful beaches in Venezuela. In addition, the city is very practical; everything is close by.

But three of our children are making their lives outside the country. The way things are going, it seems unlikely that they will be able to return. So it is very likely that when my wife and I are older, it will be inevitable that we will move to be with one of them. That would be a permanent move. I don't like to think about it too much; whatever will be, will be...

For now, we are staying here in Maracay, enjoying our small but great city...
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