Why?

Why not?

Several readers have asked why we left the US, choose to relocate to Portugal, and how we picked Cascais. I’ll attempt to answer those questions this week. We begin with why I left the US.

Why Leave the US?

If you are a regular reader, you know that I am an unapologetic progressive that was very troubled by politics in America over the past five years. While I was heartened by President Biden’s win in November (yes, he did win) I was still concerned about many things I perceived. [Please note, I chose the word “perceived” very carefully. I realize not everyone perceives things the way I do.] Among my concerns was the increase in hate speech, a radical Nationalist right-wing (read Proud Bois, Truthseekers, Qanon) that seemed emboldened by the prior administration, the destruction of the Republican Party, increased income inequality, mass shootings, etc.

I also have had enough life experiences to realize that life is all too short. That at any time it can be cut short or drastically altered by a serious illness. When we experience a family member dying in their 30’s or 40’s, a friend contracting a life-threatening illness, we reflect on our lives. Are we doing what we most wished we were doing?

Financial Trade-offs

The following might become one of those rabbit holes I sometimes take you to. When I provide an anecdote or background that causes you to wonder, why did she tell me that? But I’ll forge on, nonetheless.

I went to college to become a minister. My beliefs changed during my undergraduate education and I ended up with a BA in Religion and Sociology. My first real job was working in a family planning clinic. Seemed logical to me, many people mention God while having sex. Anyway, I ended up running a clinic for 4 years. It was a rewarding, though underpaid career. As luck would have it, I had the opportunity to do some consulting in the field in 1980. I lived in Washington DC working for HEW (what is now HHS) and earning more money than I could imagine. When the consulting gig ended, surprise … I had upset a few people, I decided I liked the good life. And even though I was worried my parents would think they had wasted a lot of money on my education…I went into sales because I was told I’d be good at it and make a lot of money. Specifically, I went into medical computer sales…a truly recession-proof career.

I spent the next 30 years, not enjoying my job a whole lot. I didn’t spring out of bed every morning looking forward to the day! Now to be fair, I wasn’t descending into coal mines or hanging off the back of a garbage truck…there are a lot worse ways of making a living!!!! But when I talked to people who LOVED their job, that didn’t think of it as work, I was jealous. My job was velvet-lined, golden handcuffs. I was good at most of it and was very well compensated.

But my puritan, frugal side persisted. We lived in houses that cost less than half of the house we could “afford”. I had a short stint in a Mercedes but then turned to a Toyota because it was more practical. The one thing I splurged on was travel. And I loved it. But even given that, I maxed out the 401k every year and still put a considerable chunk of non-sheltered money into investments every year. The last two years of my employment were made brighter by counting down the days until we had a predetermined amount put aside for retirement.

Now What?

So on the day that my final commission checks cleared, I sent back the laptop and turned the keys of my company car over to the tow truck driver … I felt I had made it. I was 59 and just wasn’t sure “to where”. We spent a month in Thailand…a great experience. But again, back in our home in Florida…the question remained … to what? The question became more profound to me with each passing year…amplified by celebrating another birthday with my parents. You see all my grandparents died when I was still in public school…I believe they were all in their 60’s or younger. My parents had each outlived their parents by more than 25 years. What if that happened to me? Yikes!

If I was a better person, I would invest time in volunteering … the way my brother does. But so far, I haven’t seemed to be called to that either.

A New Adventure

So while I was uncomfortable with what I perceived as the destruction of the American political system and always viewed travel as a way to challenge my thinking and preconceived notions; finding our way in a new country is a way to do something more than play golf for the next 20+ years. (Unfortunately, I seem to drive the ball fewer yards the more years I play and my handicap doesn’t seem to improve with time.)

Denise often says that I am a woman filled with paradoxes. Seems fitting as my last thesis in college was on “Paradox in Zen Buddhism”. So let me leave you with one last one thought. While I am keenly aware that life can be cut abruptly short I wonder how many more years I might live. I sometimes feel I wasted 30 years … I shouldn’t waste anymore.