The End

I promised I'd write one last post once I am settled back in my house. It took forever. I moved in on January 20, almost four months after arriving in Portland, almost to the day two years after moving out. I took a break from blogging because I wanted to spare my readers the mundane details, issues and worries that were bound to come up as I was rebuilding my life in Portland. At first I very much missed the act of writing for an audience. The blog had become a kind of mirror in which I could check myself. Since I didn't want to come through as whiny, throughout my adventure blogging forced me to look at the positive, or at least interesting aspects of my life. And so, mostly, I ended up liking what I saw/read in the mirror of my blog. Hey Irene, you are looking pretty good... it certainly was a confidence booster. The many supportive messages I would receive in response to my posts reinforced that feeling and definitely gave me courage.

And so I am back, in my house, surrounded by my things, to which were added items that had belonged to my dad and to my aunt. Mostly everything found a place. The unpacking was difficult, in turn emotional and exhilarating. But having now broken pretty much all my ties with Switzerland, it feels good to be surrounded by objects reminding me of loved ones and of happy times.

It also is fun to have more clothes than the one suitcase I had taken with me on the ship. For 4 months I lived with whatever had fit in, in addition to paperwork, electronics and the fancy clothes for the Queen Mary. At least I had something nice to wear for the holidays. On the plus side, I never wasted any time wondering what I should wear - it always was the same pair of jeans. On laundry day I'd change into sweats! Now the choice is both fun and overwhelming, and I still feel like I am wearing a costume with anything else but the old jeans!

The four months until I could move into my house were not easy. I was very fortunate that Marianne and I got along very well. She never put any pressure on me to move out, which helped tremendously, and for which I'll forever be grateful. The challenges were huge, but eventually I worked through them all. I started by getting a car, without which I was not going to be able to claim any kind of independence. Kind friends drove me to dealerships. I had major issues wiring the funds from the sale of my Dad's apartment - with which I was going to pay for the fixing up of my house. Among others, they screwed up on the exchange rate, multiplying instead of dividing, causing the loss of a substantial sum. These difficulties delayed the beginning of the remodel by a good month. I agonized over getting my shipment through customs - my personal effects accumulated over the 21 months spent in Switzerland, augmented with items from Dad's and my aunt's apartments. It is an intimidating process and I spent hours researching it and preparing for it. Eventually it went without a hitch, in part thanks to my preparation, in part because I lucked out with a great customs agent. At just about that time I started to suffer from a pinched nerve in my neck. Intense pain radiating from my shoulders down to my fingers, getting worse by the day, preventing sleep at night. Within less than a week I was on steroids and vicodin. Fortunately physical therapy worked and once I started treatment I saw quick improvements. It was a scary, time-consuming and costly event. But it's all good now.

In the midst of these difficulties there was one bright area: the remodel was progressing very well. It actually was less of a remodel than finally dealing with much delayed essential maintenance. I replaced the furnace, the roof and the windows, all the original 30 year old ones. I rebuilt the retaining wall between my property and the neighbors', which had started to lean precariously. We gave the whole house a fresh coat of pain, and a face-lift to the guest bath. The most exciting part was carving out a real bathroom for myself, as well as a small walk-in closet, not really a luxury, is it? My contractor was great to work with, a woman, and she actually was listening to what I wanted and completed the work on time and within budget. Her workers are kind, sweet and excellent craftsmen. I definitely recommend her.

The holidays were another challenge. I love Christmas, but I didn't feel much like celebrating. I had no place to host my kids who both were in town for a couple of weeks. We had to be creative - one night they cooked for me at their Dad's who was out for the night and we spent a cozy evening just the 3 of us. One afternoon they accompanied me to Ikea and helped me purchase furniture for what used to be their respective rooms. I could never have pulled it off on my own. They helped me navigate through the crowd, focused me, narrowed my choices, tested the mattresses, measured, compared, advised... Thanks to them the afternoon was a success and I now have a very nice guest room waiting for my distant readers.

It's been already a month since I moved back into my house. Each time I return home from some errand, it still feels life a privilege to be back in my things, to have privacy, to be not only back at home, but also back in my life. In a couple of days I am flying back to Switzerland, for 2 weeks. My aunt is not doing well. We almost lost her over Christmas, as she broke her hip, and caught pneumonia after surgery. She turned 94 on January 1, and has survived, though the quality of her life is now much diminished. I had promised her that I would visit her towards the end of the winter - so it is time. My imminent departure provided a good deadline by which I wanted all the boxes unpacked and the garage organized so I can park my car in it while I am gone. Done.

All of the above had taken much time and mental energy, leaving none for job search. When I return I'll have to aggressively work on it. It will be difficult. I am pushing 60 and have now been out of the workforce for 3 years. After having been rejected so often it is difficult to believe that indeed one day I will be offered a job. The constant rejection is painful and undermines confidence. I now hesitate applying for jobs because as long as I don't apply I don't run the risk of being rejected yet one more time.

Still, I have not been completely idle. I have reactivated my network and resumed volunteer work - of course for the Sierra Club High Desert Committee, but also for the Portland Parks Foundation, now run by a former Lazar grantee, and primarily for The Old Church, which is a community/event center housed in a historic church building.

Being back in Portland and in my own house, I can now also measure the progress I have made over the last 2 years. I am still missing my father, but the pain is definitely more dull. I still miss the excitement of the foundation work and the contact with the grantees, but I am aware that the loss of the job was the price I had to pay for the adventures and experiences of the last 2 years. It feels awkward going back to Switzerland before having recreated a life for myself in Portland. While I usually dread the trips back to Switzerland, I have to admit that I am looking forward to this one. Part of me still is there and it feels like going home - although I no longer have a place of my own there. I am looking forward to catching up with my friends. I am afraid that deep down I have not yet realized how far away I am again from them all, and that in the future my visits will be less frequent.

I would like to end with a tidy conclusion, but I can't. When I return from Switzerland I'll restart my Portland life in earnest, but I still don't know what it will look like. I will strive to find some routine, some meaning, and hopefully some source of income. I will continue to cultivate my friendships, I will contribute to causes I believe in, I will be physically active, learn more and enjoy the natural and cultural wealth Portland and Oregon have to offer.

Thank you all, my family and my friends, for your unwavering support. Without you I would have sunk in despair. Please stay in touch and visit.



Obviously my tenants were not keen gardeners and my yard turned into a jungle. I can't even begin to count the number of hours already spent cleaning it up - and I have barely scratched the surface (pun not intended!).











Some days I would have to park at the neighbors', as the whole space in front of my house was taken over by the trucks and equipment of the sub-contractors. The blue car in the foreground is my new car! Note how neat the little garden is now!










Rediscovering downtown Portland. The fall colors were gorgeous and seemed to last forever.














Portland - the city of many bridges (over the Willamette River).














I rarely left the city, though Marianne and I went for a hike to Cape Lookout. I needed to see the Ocean.














Right back into the swing of things - I helped with the harvest at the Cameron winery.














Thanksgiving walk along the Columbia River.
















And the Christmas walk also was along the Columbia!















Claire and partner Colin.















Eric and partner Pam.




















The family: Ernst, Martin, Grand-Pa Vlach, Claire, Colin, Irene, Eric, Pam.















The guest room, formerly Claire's room, waiting for your visit.