Dear Graham,
The next day Joseph picked us up at our Airbnb in Casco Viejo. This time he drove us to our attorney’s home office in the San Francisco neighborhood of Panama City. It was a charming Spanish-style home with a cream-colored stucco façade and a red tile roof. Joseph waited in the car while we entered the office, which opened into a spacious tiled foyer and sitting room. French doors looked out onto a sparkling swimming pool, creating a calm, welcoming atmosphere.
Ryan and Tamara, the attorneys who would guide us through the immigration process, greeted us warmly. We settled into the sitting room, reading and signing what felt like an endless stack of paperwork. For reasons I still can’t explain, I kept signing my maiden name instead of my married name. Tamara laughed and called it a Freudian slip. I don’t know what was going on in my subconscious, but it took at least three attempts before I finally signed my name correctly.
Throughout the entire immigration process, I had butterflies in my stomach. The day we walked into the immigration office with Tamara by our side, I found myself fighting back tears. The emotion caught me completely by surprise.
I think it was because, until a year or so earlier, I had never imagined myself retiring in another country. Call me corny, but I love America. I love my family, my friends, and the life we had built there. To suddenly uproot ourselves and move to a country we had only visited twice was stirring something deep inside me.
Tom and I both wanted to sell our home, and we were relieved when it finally sold. I knew I was ready to retire, but I was still apprehensive about moving to Panama, especially since we hadn’t yet visited Pedasi, the town we hoped would become our new home.
At the same time, I felt ready to leave the mountains of Colorado. After thirty-two years at 8,200 feet in Nederland, the long winters had become more challenging than magical. Navigating icy mountain roads had lost its appeal. We weren’t skiing anymore, so the joy of winter had gradually given way to the inconvenience and worry that came with it.
The thought of living near the ocean filled me with excitement, and I couldn’t wait to see Pedasí for myself. But alongside that excitement came a steady stream of questions. What if we couldn’t handle the heat? What if we never found a house that felt like home? What if we were making a terrible mistake? The doubts seemed to multiply the closer we came to making the leap.
When we walked out of the immigration office holding our temporary visas, we found ourselves standing on the curb beside another couple who were also retiring to Panama. They happened to be from your hometown, Graham—in Canada.
The gentleman noticed the tears still glistening in my eyes. He smiled kindly and said, “Don’t cry, little one. Fifty years ago, we left Poland for Canada. Now we’re leaving Canada to retire in Panama. This is a wonderful new chapter for you, dear—an adventure that will bring opportunities and insights you can’t even imagine.”
His words stayed with me. In that moment, standing on a curb in Panama City with temporary visas in our hands, I realized we weren’t just leaving something behind. We were stepping into a life we couldn’t yet imagine.
With Love,
CC
