Feb 11, 2022 4 min read

What a strange stage of life this is.

I’m trying to figure out where I go next. I’m single, a few years away from retirement, have young adult children but no grandchildren yet. Oh, and I loathe Pittsburgh winters.

It feels a little bit like being 15, stuck between childhood and adulthood, when age 16 means driving and the freedom that brings. Back then, the question was when can I be an adult? Now, my question is, what’s my next move?

My friend Kate, a pediatrician, is in a spot similar to mine.

“I’m adrift,” she said. She and her husband are still working, have children living in far-off places, and have no grandchildren yet. They recently downsized from a large family home to a patio home.

I like where I live; the house is just the right size, and the neighborhood is friendly, with trees and deer all around. I’m just minutes from bike trails.

But it’s too much for me to manage. The recent snowstorms trapped me for days, until I found a worker to come and dig me out. If I stay here through another winter, I’ll have to marry a man with a snow plow.

But where to go next? A childhood friend, Carol, recently moved into a beautiful townhouse that’s across the street from the neighborhood pool and has a little yard. Although I feel a bit of envy about the built-in gas fireplace in the kitchen, I most covet the way the place came with snow removal and maintenance.

“Like this, but something smaller,” I told her. She’s been sending me listings for places near her. Given the way the housing market is, the places probably sell in a day or two.

I would face a game of leapfrog. Sell first, or buy first? I heard of a family who found themselves in a pickle when they sold their house before buying a new one. There are places I could go if that would happen to me, but then what do I do with all my stuff?

With one child on the west coast and another about to graduate from college, I have a question mark hanging over my head. When I talked to my daughter about selling my house, she asked me to wait until she lands in her next spot and then buy a house there. But twenty-somethings aren’t exactly known for putting down roots – or for wanting Mommy to live next door.

“I can’t follow you all over the country, buying houses,” I told her. Besides, I like my job, and plan to keep doing it for a few years.

When a person has young children, the decisions are simple. You find a kid-friendly neighborhood in a good school district, and then look for a big enough house you can afford.

But that paradigm doesn’t work for this stage I’m in. Eventually there will be grandchildren; that will dictate my choices, but so will my career. Of course, an option might be to live a nomadic life in an RV, driving between kids, but that would be so unlike me.

In another month, the space around me will turn green again, and I might forget this dreadful winter and decide to stay here. But I’d just be deferring the inevitable.

Last we spoke, my friend Kate sounded happy and a little less drifty. Maybe that’s because the new digs are defining the next stage for her, providing a context for everything that comes next.

And so, onward for me. Wanna buy a house? It comes with some lovely deer.