HITCHED TO A WANDERING STAR

Memories flow through my mind as brief scenes observed while surfing the channels on the television, or as an incomplete and disconnected dream that starts in the middle and ends without resolution.  With concentrated effort, the memories flow into the story of a life hitched to a wandering star.

As the popular song from the musical, Paint Your Wagon, suggested some souls are born under a wandering star.  My earliest relationship with my future husband, an example of that star, did arouse questions of wander lust, but when one is young and blinded by the stars in her eyes, realistic thinking is elusive.  The son of a transient father (Journeyman Lead Burner, a rare trade with high demand), who traveled the country in worker caravans during the WWll era, he experienced a childhood that pictured permanence as boring and unattractive; a life style that promoted restlessness and impatience.  He attended five schools in one term.

Without dispute, WWll created abnormal situations in the culture of the era.  Perhaps confronted with different circumstances, his family may have chosen differently.  However, regardless of family influence, the wandering star personality is a character trait influencing an individual in the same way as an addiction.  The wanderer is powerless to control or renounce the mindset.  I reached this conclusion while being hitched to a wandering star.

The desire for permanence in the early 1950s in southern Texas seemed an elusive dream when all young men faced the military draft.  The Korean police action shaped the life of all males graduating from high school.  He could opt to enroll in college and receive deferment, however, most simply accepted the challenge.  My wandering star, a Naval Reserve recruit at graduation, accepted his fate and enjoyed world travel while serving on a ship. He treasured his Navy years as milestones in his life. We were married before he left, and I waited at home hitched to a wandering star.

All things end as did the Korean conflict, and the troops came home.  Still with a fleeting desire to remain in the military, he decided to enter the University of Houston instead. My hope for settling into some normal life soared. We purchased a home and our first daughter arrived.  He settled into a normal job, and my joy rose as we moved toward my goal.  Then, just after we discovered a second child was expected, my wandering star broke the news that he wanted to migrate to Australia.  Armed with maps and documents, he excitedly made his case.  Leave the USA. Please, God, don’t make me do this. His greatest ambition was to fly.  He loved airplanes, and Australia offered a golden opportunity for flight school.

 

With urgency, I struggled to direct his flight school dreams to somewhere in the US.  He found his second option in Miami, Florida.  And so, with optimism, I began the march to Miami uprooting my family to respect his wishes.  We bought a 40 foot house trailer and a truck for towing, and I began ten years of moving from place to place in the State of Florida hitched to a wandering star.

Finding the cost of a family (the second child was born) and the cost of schooling incompatible, he accepted a job with Eastern Airlines.  Eventually, the airlines required relocating from Miami to Clearwater, later to St. Petersburg to Daytona Beach, and a few years later to Atlanta, Ga.  By this time, we had traded to a 10x50 trailer, given birth to a third daughter, and I worked for three different companies. He settled into his job with Eastern Airlines after the move to Atlanta - for  ten years.  Feeling comfortable and dropping my defenses with the purchase of a lovely home, I reeled in disbelief when he decided to return to Florida. How can I gather my wits for another venture?  I will because I’m hitched to a wandering star.

He always envisioned a golden opportunity on the other side of the mountain. So we sold our home, uprooted our family, and returned to Florida.  For twenty years we moved from place to place in central Florida.  His decaying vision determined that he must abandon his dream to fly commercially.  Age also began to invade his wandering lust demanding a more settled life style.  Overjoyed when we purchased a condo in Bradenton, FL, I rejoiced to have a permanent address to place on our Christmas cards. How could I be so foolish knowing that I’m hitched to a wandering star?

In only a few months, with the excuse we are growing older and need to be near family, he began a campaign to persuade me to return to Georgia. Protesting at first, I finally resolved to make the move.  Settling into a new home in Georgia, I relaxed knowing that at our age we should not move again.  As I watched his health fade, I silently observed the love of my life search the Milky Way for that star that haunted his life.

With his passing in 2010, I smiled as I remembered lines in the song, “When he gets to heaven, God will chain him to a tree, or he will travel around just to see what he can see.” And without regret, memories of that wandering life brightens my days as I remember my husband of fifty nine years.  No roots, no permanence, a constantly changing address, but an exciting roller coaster life of adventure.  Yes, those memories flow through my mind as a precious record of events that enriched my life as I journeyed through the years hitched to a wandering star.