Ed: Sydney Chaney Thomas is a Moraga-based writer and businesswoman with three books to her name, all currently available on Amazon. She is also co-founder of a sustainable sailing apparel company called Ocean SF, and operates a nonprofit that works to reduce plastic waste called the The Trident Project.
Sydney teaches entrepreneurial marketing at UC Berkeley in their International Diploma Program and, in addition to this column, she writes a popular lifestyle blog, which can be found at sydneychaneythomas.com.
Transition, Work & Motherhood
October 8 , 2018
My apologies for keeping everyone in a state of suspense regarding my beautiful family home in Moraga. I had it on the market for a hot second and then I changed my mind. As many people in my situation on the brink of being empty nesters know, we are making decisions for our future selves and after spending decades holding the course, this is never easy!
Today, I ran into an old friend of mine. Mary is a recent empty nester. She was buying things to send to her son at USC for Halloween. I realized that I am the ultimate empty nester. I will have no children and no husband. I don’t even have an ex-husband nearby. And, sadly I have no parents to care for either.
I had a very busy summer. I continued working on Ocean SF and my three part time jobs. Even though I broke my arm, I literally did not skip a beat. I had my daughters home all summer and Austin Clark for three weeks. It made it hard to imagine ever living here by myself.
My beautiful swimming pool, that sits under a grove of a dozen 120 foot redwood trees, decided to be the problem of the summer. Anyone who has dealt with the pool people know that they are an elusive and extremely expensive group of folks. They also operate under their own set of rules.
For whatever reason, the pool people I employed over the summer insisted the green algae was due to the California fires. I didn’t necessarily believe this, but I thought throwing more money at the pool would certainly fix the problem fires or not. This proved unfounded. We are talking not hundreds, but thousands of dollars later. Interestingly, my entire family became pool experts and could pop the top off of the pressurized water filter with ease. My girls and I know our way around a wrench thank goodness. None of this is bad. Every friend of mine helped in some way over the summer to keep the pool a lovely light blue, as it did not take a village, it took an army. After many months we discovered the problem which was fixed via a u-tube video. More on this later, but you might want to set the pump timing yourself.
As autumn approached I thought I can’t do this again. It’s time to move on. I began to dream of how lovely it would be to live in a hotel. I went to L.A. for work and stayed in a beautiful hotel. At the pool I was handed a towel not a net with a pole at the end. There was music playing, and a peaceful waterfall. I ordered room service from my phone as I sat in the hot tub. What was not to love?
Of course we love what challenges us the most. I came home and listened to the crickets in the creek. My pool with the lights illuminating the redwoods is something no hotel can offer. I also have an amazing fire pit and a beautiful tree house.
My garden is full of repeat blooming roses and every variety of lavender. My lemon tree that I have cultivated for a decade is laden with fruit. My dog sleeps in the green grass. My neighbors walk past and say hello.
I love my quiet creekside location, the tulle fog that comes over the ridge, and the birds that wake me up each morning.
It’s tempting to dream of living in a hotel after so many years of caring for my husband and kids, and everyone else’s kids for that matter. The idea of being a guest sounds delightful.
Yet, Moraga is my home and I’m not alone in holding it close to my heart. It appears that many people have a hard time leaving Moraga. My next door neighbors were here decades before we moved in. My predecessor lived here well into her eighties. I can definitely see why.
My youngest daughter graduates from high school in June. I have many options and opportunities to consider and the possibilities are endless…
Luckily, I’ll still have the dog.