Road More Travelled

Tonight, I walked one block over to my very first home.  We use to be able to cut through the trees and walk into the past.  The trail is long gone now. 

And of course, when you happen to walk onto a street that's connected to any kind of your past, you start thinking.  First, how everything looks the same; second how everything looks different.  That's a little bit of what we experience daily here.  The streets are the same, some wider now, some connect to others that they didn't before, but they are still familiar.  The mountains are the same mountains, but boy do they look better now after you left them for a little while.  The trees are taller; some have grown so tall that they lean.  But, in each and every leaf, you can find a memory. 

As I walked that lane tonight, past neighbors houses and a field that is taller than I ever was when I lived next door, I couldn't help but think about where we've been and where we're going.  We're not entirely sure about the latter, and we still process and reprocess the former.  While we may not have a clear cut plan in place for the next six months, other than work, work, work, we can agree on one thing.  We have come far.   In nine months, we got married, got another dog, quit a job, lost a grandparent, put a house up for sale, said good-bye for now to friends, moved across the country, got a new job, moved in with my parents, learned all we could about a new community, and everything else in between. 

Through it all, we remained rock solid.  K is intent on making this place his home, and that really makes all the difference.  He is positive, he is determined, he is patient, and he is willing to give this a try.  He's a pillar of strength.  This has given me the freedom to rediscover this land that I love.  He is much better than I ever was in Pennsylvania.  But maybe I'm happier here, and that makes it easier on him. 

When we look back on this time in our young marriage, I know that we will realize what a challenge this time may have been.  We have only the rings on our fingers and a box of wedding photos to tie us to that day.  Every other memento of our love is still on a Pod in PA.  Daily we stand in disbelief at the amount of dog hair around us, consuming our tiny living arrangement.  We still have not figured out how to store our clothing so that we can find what we need.  I still feel like I have to tell my parents what time we'll be home in the evening.  And no matter how many times mom goes to bed at 8, I know that K will never get his fill of Sports Center here. 

 

Someday, we'll walk down a similar path.  We'll reminisce and reflect on this experience.  And, much like that old, brown house that use to feel so big, it will look so small in comparison. Important, necessary for the life that we will one day grow into, but still smaller than we remember.