Growing up, I wanted to live in every city my family visited on vacation. As an adult, I started to work through that list.
After college in Virginia, I moved to DC, went to grad school in Wisconsin, and then followed jobs to Denver and New York. I loved city life, and leaving never crossed my mind.
That changed when my father died. Worried about my 75-year-old mom living alone in Louisville and struggling with grief, I felt guilty about not living closer. For the first time, I questioned whether living so far away was what I really wanted.
When my sister announced she was moving back to Louisville in 2019, I got a bad case of FOMO. After a phone call from her and mom about the best pea pesto they’d ever had at a new local Italian spot, I knew it was time.
Later that year, I left my job, sold everything that wouldn’t fit into a rented minivan, and returned to the Bluegrass State. Once in Louisville, we went from separate lives to an interdependent existence.
When my sister bought a bungalow 20 minutes away from my mom, I moved in with her so we could both save money. Then the pandemic hit. After quarantining for a year, her house felt cramped, so I bought the place next door.
This time, it was my mom’s turn to have FOMO. Tired of missing out on impromptu karaoke nights and needing some help around the house, she moved three blocks away.
Old family dynamics reemerged amid proximity and health scares
The last time we were this geographically close, my sister and I were in high school. Our teenage bickering over who was hogging the phone leveled up, and now we were going rounds over how to load the dishwasher.
When we found ourselves in an absurd screaming match about the “right way” to make dinner, we realized we needed professional help.
In therapy, we looked at our past roles in the family system and evaluated them against how we each had grown since then. We also learned to communicate our needs more clearly and recognize when we were listening versus making assumptions.
Spending an hour a week talking about our feelings was out of our comfort zone, but it helped us better understand each other so that we could stop arguing and start enjoying each other’s company.
Now we spend that energy dominating trivia night together, instead of getting the last word.
A few years ago, a small health scare also shifted our dynamic.
My mom was experiencing some concerning health symptoms, but was dismissing them because her recent physical had been normal.
However, as the weeks dragged on without improvement, we urged my mother to see the doctor and to let my sister, who’s a nurse, join her.
At first, Mom felt we were being patronizing, but a few months in, she got worried too and let my sister accompany her to an appointment.
With my sister in the room to help fill in gaps and use her medical background to ask the right questions, doctors were able to diagnose and manage my mom’s condition.
I worry it would’ve gone untreated for much longer if we hadn’t lived close enough to see what was happening firsthand. I’m also glad she didn’t have to go through that health scare alone and that we were able to support her.
Despite the challenges, living in the same neighborhood has been worth it
Being a short walk away has allowed us to pool resources in ways that would be impossible if we lived in different states.
The three of us share a Peloton bike and tread. We also exchange household items like a lawnmower or kitchen gadgets.
And then there’s Costco — after living alone most of my adult life, I finally can enjoy all the glory of bulk shopping. Being able to take advantage of economies of scale has been financially beneficial for us all.
At the same time, there are drawbacks. For instance, I helped my mom set up and manage online bill pay. Although she wanted my help, once we started to set up online accounts, my mom found it invasive that I had visibility into her finances.
When I suggested that she use autopay, she felt I was overstepping and telling her how to manage her money. After a long conversation, we identified boundaries that would make the process better.
Once we were on the same page, paying bills wasn’t fraught; it was the impetus for us to have dinner and movie nights.
All in all, evolving roles, difficult conversations, and the minutiae of daily life ultimately strengthened our relationships. Living so close also improved our daily lives in a myriad of tiny ways.
I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
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