While I was discovering who I was, or who I thought I was supposed to be, James was becoming increasingly dissatisfied in his job and being so far away from family. As I had said earlier, James was close to his family at the time they talked on the phone nearly every day. In the year prior to our moving to Florida, James’s father had been diagnosed stage 4B esophageal cancer, which has a 5% five year survival rate. After a tough battle and treatments, he was officially in remission, but stage four cancers typically come back with vengeance, and he had already received his lifetime max of radiation.
James felt as if his was on borrowed time with his father and talks of returning home to Indiana began. As luck would have it, when our lease came up on the apartment, they wanted to increase our rent. So, as usual, we moved. We ended up moving into the apartment complex right next door to where we had been living. It was a bit of a downgrade, but it was quite a bit cheaper. On a whim, we decided to sign a six month lease instead of a full year.
James started looking for jobs almost immediately, but once again nothing. At least this time we had a pretty good idea why he wasn’t getting any bites on the job front. Apparently, someone he had gone to high school with, had used his name and date of birth as an alias and committed at least one felony in Colorado. So, every job application he filled out or resume sent, he had to attach a letter from the Colorado state police stating he was not that person. It was a hassle. After a couple months of no luck, we decided to change tactics and have me apply for jobs.
It seemed like moving was a good idea. At the point in time my friend Kristy had already moved to Illinois with her then boyfriend and another of my friends was also leaving Florida, so it seemed like a sign from the “universe” it was time to move on. So, I updated my resume, used a friend’s local Indiana address, and started applying to jobs, but only the jobs that I would LOVE to have, not just any job – since the job I had a Citibank would likely turn into a good career.
Honestly, I don’t even remember applying for the job in Westfield at the police department. But one day, quite some time after I had sent the resume, I received a phone call about an interview. The date was set out about a week. Luckily, I had plenty of vacation time and my boss liked me so I could take it at short notice. I’m sure I came up with some excuse of needing to do something for family up north. I ended up taking the week off to visit family and go to this interview a thousand miles from our home at the time.
During the course of the interview, I let them know that I was currently living in Florida and my local friend had given me permission to use their address for applying to jobs. It would also be where I would stay temporarily once I relocated. After the interview, I was asked how long I was going to be in the area. I took that as a good sign. I had barely made it a few miles down the road before I received a phone call requesting a second interview later that week.
On the day of the second interview, I left my parents’ house and was running early. When I was about ten miles away, I received a phone call asking if I was intending to interview that day. I had apparently written the interview time down incorrectly and was fifteen minutes late.
I apologized profusely, explained the situation that I had written down the wrong time once I stopped driving. Once I got to the interview, I was certain I was not getting the job, so I was interviewing with zero stress and just using it as practice. After the interview, I chatted with my interviewers about what I was doing in the area after my interview and suggestions of things to check out. Then I met the Chief of Police and really hit it off. We had a similar small town upbringing.
I left the office with a feeling of a missed opportunity and disappointment, but there was no way I was getting the job after being so late to the interview.
A couple weeks after returning back home to Florida, I received a phone call from the Westfield police department offering me the records assistant job. I was stunned and excited. My start date was at the end of August 2010.
James and I were thrilled to start our adventure back home to Indiana and for a much needed change in scenery.
I never would have guessed the changes to our lives over the next several years after that move back home.
A Mother's Special Calling 