We moved back to Westchester in October of 1979, to the rolling hills of North Salem, New York, where horses out-numbered people. There I felt like I was able to provide my children a safe, rural, wholesome place to live. Our house sat on two acres of land and abutted a hundred acres of fields, streams and horse trails. The kids were free to romp around, explore the outdoors by themselves, and hang out with the neighbor’s horses that lived in a corner of our property. I loved being able to provide this lifestyle for my children. It felt like we had dodged the bullet of California and returned to normalcy in our lives in a place we could settle into and call home.
Len and I seemed to be doing well even though we had just gone through the toughest year of our marriage. We picked up where we had left off before our move. We had our Sunday ritual of reading the New York Times together, eating bagels with the kids, and taking long walks. Len kept a peripheral connection to the kids by going to some school meetings and events, but he mostly was consumed by his work.
Len and I seemed to be doing well even though we had just gone through the toughest year of our marriage. We picked up where we had left off before our move. We had our Sunday ritual of reading the New York Times together, eating bagels with the kids, and taking long walks. Len kept a peripheral connection to the kids by going to some school meetings and events, but he mostly was consumed by his work.