After my second divorce, in 2007, I decided I had to move away. My father in Ohio wanted me to move in with him. My daughters and their families wanted me to move near them on the east coast. I knew they all meant well and I loved them for asking, but I knew my healing was going to take being alone with myself.
I didn’t know who the hell I was anymore. I had decisions to make —what did I want for the rest of my life? I was convinced the answers I needed to find were here with me.
I found where I wanted to move quite by accident. The summer before, I took a road trip to visit my dad in Ohio. It was a long trip from New Hampshire all along I-80 in Pennsylvania to my dad’s in Ohio. At one point, I needed to find a gas station. I watched for signs and then I saw one for Punxsutawney.
Now, everyone knows what Punxsy is known for —the little rodent that predicts when spring is coming. So I followed the signs, filled my gas tank, and spent a couple of hours there as a tourist. I fell in love with the quaint little town.
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