Walking Away

After we moved into our home but long before the landscaping was finished around the house, Steve mentioned to me that the National Science Foundation had invited him to apply for a temporary position in Washington, DC. Temporary meant a year-long assignment.
My response was, "Just after we got into our dream home!?"
He replied, "Yeah. I'll just tell them it's not a good time."
I saw a drop in the enthusiasm he had come with and said, "This is the position you applied for before, right? When they didn't choose you but later someone said to you that they wished you had been chosen instead of the guy they took on." He confirmed this.
"And it is only one year; we would be back in a year." He confirmed this.
I knew this was something he would really like to do. He was getting close to retirement. It would be an challenge, an adventure.
"Go ahead and apply," I said. "It wouldn't hurt to see what comes of it."

That was in the early summer. He sent the application off and we watched for some feedback all summer. No word. He kept his research going and planned for his fall semester classes.

Then in September, someone called to invite him to come for an in-person interview. He went in October and they seemed to be very positive about his appointment. We would hear back from them within about a week, they said. A month went by. Faculty members were anticipating the next semester of courses. Steve told his Department Chair he might be gone for the winter semester but still no word from NSF.

Finally, word came, but unofficially. Yes, he would be appointed as of January but there were conflicts of interest that would need to be cleared before he could be appointed. He was encouraged to remove himself from any grants that were funded through NSF.
I was dubious. "They want you to remove yourself from research projects based on unofficial assurance that you will be hired? --with no indication of what you will be paid, what expenses they will cover for a move across the country, and whether we'll be able to maintain our home here as well as an apartment in the DC area?"
Steve was confident and began to make the requested changes.

As a program director, he would direct the vetting of research grant applications and assist in dispersing federal funds for scientific research. It turns out that the NSF directs the funding of about 25% of basic research at US colleges and universities. That's a lot! They need science experts as well as the permanent employees at NSF to manage it. These experts come from their own research, put in a year (or two or more, as I found out later) and then return to their research. These are called "rotator positions" because the experts rotate in and then return to their universities or research institutions. He spoke with several who had taken a turn and found that virtually all of them enjoyed the experience. He was excited.

I also began to plan for my removal from the projects with which I was involved in Provo. I had been about six months on the Provo Transportation and Mobility Committee, less than three months on the Provo Planning Commission. My role as secretary with the United Utah Party was an elected position. Sure, I could drop out but the party was young and finding replacements for this and all my volunteer positions would be tricky. But finding them was someone else's responsibility.

Steve received the official notice of his appointment only about a week before we left Provo. What a relief!

Care for our new house became more straight-forward as Lisa became engaged in November and would be married shortly after we left. She and Clint would live in our dream home -- and take care of it and the needs of the rental unit -- while we were gone. The more I think of it, the more I think this is as it should be.

Lisa and I have been closest of all my children, not because she was favored but because of her placement as youngest child. She had my attention whereas her siblings had to compete with other younger children. She also was a cuddler and kept me as her confidant. When her siblings wanted to pull away from home and stopped having those late night talks with Mom, she had my full attention and loved it. Even when returning from a year in Africa or a year and a half as a missionary, she quickly picked up the mother-daughter bond again. As a young wife, she would need to pull away from home and mother and rely on her husband for close-knit bonds -- her husband and a female friend, I believe, a wise contemporary. It is best that I am out of the picture for the first year or two of her marriage.

In mid-December I began packing up clothing and kitchen essentials. On December 19th, I loaded the car we would drive across the country.
On December 20th, I looked around the walk-in closet, now clear except for hangers and a few items on the upper shelves. I made sure there were supplies of furnace filters, water softener salt, and cleaning supplies. I ran my fingers along the granite counter top in the kitchen and closed . I locked the doors, turned out the lights and walked away.