Senator in Response to Your Question I can Unequivocally Say , I Am Not Now, Nor Have I Ever Been, Nor Will I Ever be, Courageous.

 

Courage, according to the Oxford dictionary, has two meanings. The first is, “the ability to do something that frightens one.” The second is, “strength in the face of pain or grief.” Over the months since Francie and I moved to Portugal a number of people have used the term courage to describe our experience leaving America as emigrants to Portugal. I really don’t think that is the right word.

Clearly the second definition is not applicable. The only grief or pain associated with our move is those pangs of hurt we feel watching our birth country stumble toward authoritarianism. Yes, I am talking about the Trump/MAGA juggernaut toward acceptance of the former guy’s “Do what I say and the Constitution be damned" mantra. Yes, I am also talking about the House of Representatives electing an election denier to the speakership. Leaving in one sense probably shows more of a defeatist attitude than courage if you boil it down to the essence. But sadness was not the prime motivator of our move.

Coming to Portugal was more like accepting the truth of a logical syllogism. I know it doesn’t have the same ring for someone to say, ‘you are such realists for having moved to Portugal.’ After my second bout of cancer, I gave up on my belief that I would work until I croaked at my desk. Following my surgery which took a fifth of my left kidney, I was pretty sure that the expiration date stamped on my bottom had moved up and no longer said, "Best before April 2033.” The date was probably a great deal closer to a best used by date of April 2026. 

Having decided that I probably don’t have a lot more time on this planet I started thinking what have I, what have we worked for all these years? Well first there was a desire to get out of Michigan's f#%king cold. Four seasons my ass, Michigan is really a place of 8 ½ months of cold and clouds most of that sprinkled with snow of some depth. 1 month wraps around those months with mud and false promises of beautiful springs and lovely falls (invariably a harsh rain comes and destroys the fall colors. Alternatively, it gets hot in late May and suddenly summer is just there.) The short remaining months are hot, humid and filled with tornado sirens.

Next there was the desire for the sea and fresh seafood. Both of us were water babies. Francie was raised in Volusia County and Daytona Beach and its waves were her ingrained memories. Me, my memories come from somewhere farther up the Atlantic coast , more specifically Ocean City, NJ, America’s family resort. The smells of salt water and frying flounder are wired into my head as the epitome of life’s best things. Watching waves for hours on end, well there is nothing better. Forty years in the Midwest of America seem like just passing the time.

Given those two critical motivating factors we looked about in America. The left coast was way, way ….way too expensive for two people who had worked in the heartland for forty years. The south was too, too…way too MAGA. Thus, we had to look at other countries. 

Loved Victoria, BC. However, it is expensive and old geezers can't legally retire there. I thought about requesting political asylum but the Canadian immigration folks have not been receptive to that argument from leftist US Democrats with 401(k)s in the past. So where could we find a stable government, decent health care and a not oppressive cost of living? If you have been reading the papers over the past five years Portugal is always near the top of the lists. And we had been to Portugal and liked it. And it is coastal. And there is really good seafood.

Okay, emigration paperwork is onerous. Opening a bank account is byzantine. Juggling the cash needed to get an apartment, gather furniture for the apartment, and airline tickets to our destination was a hassle (and obviously more expensive by half than we thought it would be). But we didn’t have any real fear.  There was some doubt, the “Are we really doing this?" moments. Doubt is not fear. Facing hassles is not the same as facing dire diagnoses or standing up to home intruders. Those moments generate real fear and require tremendous courage in response.

The closest I came to fear in this whole process was when a couple of butterflies cropped up in my stomach. This was as I rode the train up to my immigration hearing here in Portugal. Seriously, that's the worst of it. Maybe it is because there is an escape hatch. If at any point we decide we don’t like our life here anymore an airline ticket home is not that expensive. It would take us four months of rent to buy out our lease. We would take a few thousand dollars loss on the furnishings we bought, but I have pissed away more money on lesser things. We have a parachute and a ripcord if it all becomes too overwhelming.

In my mind moving here from Michigan wasn’t really that much different from moving to Florida. However, there are no asshats with Trump 2024 flags planted in their rusted pickup truck beds, waving wildly just behind the gun rack in the back window. Courage no, wanderlust filled yes. Crazy, yes. Impractical, yes. Longing for and looking for serendipity, yes. Maybe even adventurous in the sense you call somebody eating raw kibbe for the first time adventurous. We aren’t fearless explorers. We are those kids just out of college who want to wander Europe with a backpack, a dog-eared travel guide and raging hormones. Well, we are those kids just with more money, grayer hair, a need for more privacy, a need for clean sheets, a need for regular showers and with just a tad less hormonal lust. Oh, the guidebook is now on our iPad.