Never Going Back: What Long-Term Residents Say

Every spring they said they would decide next spring.

By Neil Solomon · 3 min read

Picture a couple named Walter and Joan. They moved for a few years, to try it. Every spring they said they would decide next spring. One day a friend from home asks when they are coming back, and Joan hears herself say, "Back to what?"

I enjoy these stories because they begin with a small plan and end with a different life. The people in them did not set out to stay for good. It happened a bit at a time.

Five people, five roads

Portugal. One retiree planned three years and now cannot imagine leaving. That sentence says a lot. The plan was modest, so there was nothing to prove. The staying came from living, not from a decision.

Netherlands. A man of 82 calls himself a resident of Heerlen, and I like how that sounds. He is not a visitor in his own life. At that age, being at home matters more than where the postcard comes from.

Bulgaria. A British couple retired there in 2005 and say they are never going back. After so many years, they are not still comparing. They have a routine, neighbors, and a place that fits.

Georgia. A man fell in love in 2001 and stayed. His story shows that sometimes the thing holding a person in place is a person, or a person and a country together. I would not call that a plan. It is closer to devotion.

Russia. An English engineer settled in Voronezh and became known as a stargazer there. He is content. I read his story as one about interests: a person with a steady passion can make a home anywhere that lets him follow it.

What they share

There are three words I hear across these stories, though they are used differently: routine, people, and time. Routine is what the days are made of. People are who they are made with. Time is what lets the first two grow.

None of them mention a single dramatic moment. They describe a slow arrival. At some point, "home" shifted. For some it happened in the first year. For others it took ten.

Something to weigh

These are the people who stayed. There are others who left, and their stories are just as true. The point of reading the staying stories is not to promise the same ending. It is to see what the feeling of settling looks like from the inside.

I think it is useful to notice what they did not have: a rigid end date. They gave themselves room.

"We never said forever," Walter tells Joan.

"We never said we'd leave, either."