Make this place your home...

It's hard for me to believe, but a year ago at this time, we were throwing the final items into boxes.  (Boxes that I would soon discover were so unorganized that it took us almost this full year to unpack and reorganize.)  It wasn't the most romantic wedding anniversary, but the whole process was symbolic  of the vows and promises I had made on that day four years before.

Moving day was an emotionally confusing day.  Calling it bittersweet just doesn't do it justice.  There was so much sadness.  But, there were also moments of excitement about the long journey that was spread out in front of us.  I remember someone saying to me when they heard we were moving, "It's going to be sad, but there is a certain excitement to going somewhere entirely new and just starting over."

Whoever that was - thank you.  You were right.

I miss my home.  Yes.  There is a hole in my heart where St. Louis used to be and I catch myself aching for some of our traditions we celebrated yearly while still living there.

Cardinals in Postseason has kind of become a yearly thing. Just sayin'.

But, for every second that I miss St. Louis - there is a moment of pure, unencumbered joy and gratitude for the life we are living here and the people that we share it with.  There are things that have taken some getting used to (everything literally shuts down during football games, it's like a ghost town.)  Some things (traffic patterns, for example) I may never enjoy.  But, I truly just LOVE it here.  (So much so that sometimes I feel like I'm cheating on my city a bit.)

I remember on the day we left that I watched The Arch become a tiny little dot in my rearview mirror my eyes blurred with tears and sad songs blaring on my CD player. And yet, every time I started to get scary sad and ugly cry, I would have a message of encouragement from someone back at home.  Messages that promised me it would be okay.  Messages that told me that they missed me already. Messages that allowed me to hope that not only was it going to be good - that it might just be even better.

To all of you who contacted me on one of the most defining days of my entire life - thank you.  And?  You were right.  It is okay.

The past two years that we have been in the process of relocating ourselves here has taught me so much about our strength as a couple; as parents; as people, in general.  And now that we get to live here in the beautiful now - I'm just so grateful and blessed about where this journey has taken us thus far.

So, happy first anniversary, Chicago - I think I'll keep you.
And, happy fifth anniversary to my husband - you can stay too.

Somewhere only we know...

I walked across an empty land
I knew its pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete

How is it that you can wish and pray so hard for something for close to a year, and still not be ready to say goodbye?  I look around now and know that many of the things I am doing will be "the last time."

The last time I'll eat lunch with my co-workers at our favorite Mexican restaurant.
The last time I'll drive on a route so familiar I am almost certain I could do it with my eyes closed. (But, don't worry, I won't.)
The last time I'll run into old friends during a random Saturday shopping trip.
The last time I'll be able to wear a Cardinals' shirt without having to watch my back.

Leaving work was absolutely surreal.  I had a perpetual lump in my throat throughout the day.  A group of some of my favorite co-workers met downstairs during my final few minutes to walk me out of the building.  I walked ahead of them to the time clock as they slowly walked behind me.  I turned around to look at them once as we walked outside.
I didn't really need to do that.
I knew they were behind me all along.

I have been wondering when I would break down.  When the flood gates would open.  When the tears would never stop.  That moment was when our security gate closed behind me.  When I knew I could no longer get back in.  I don't think I will ever be able to imagine that moment without crying for as long as I live.


Recently, a friend gave me this quote and said it made her think of me.

Courage is the ability to let go of the familiar.

The gravity of what I'm doing has not really hit me until this week.  It's not only work that I'm leaving behind.  I'm leaving everything that I've known for the past 30 years.  It never really occurred to me that a life change of this magnitude would take a great deal of courage. And that's probably been a matter of not really accepting how BIG this is until just now.

I tried to talk as I fought back tears (not one of my strong points) in response to the quote and told her the reason why I've been able to keep going:

I am leaving behind a lot of what I love and everything that I know.

But, I'm finally getting a lot of things I love just as much.

A brand new city (one that I've always said I would love to live in.)

An even more incredible job than the one I just left (which I didn't even think was possible.)

A beautiful home that couldn't be more perfect if I dreamed it.

The ability to easily drive to see both sets of our respective families.

Living even closer to a whole slew of people we love very much and never get to see.

It is these things that have kept me going for the past 9 months (where at times, I really wasn't sure it was worth it.)  Call it courage, but really - it's just blind hope.

I've always said that in St. Louis, I feel as though I am True North.  You can plop be down in any part of the city and I can always find my way back home.  I'd like to think that, even in our new home, this will always remain true.  My husband gave me a card to commemorate our last day of our current situation.  In it, he thanked me for showing him what a great place St. Louis is to live.  But, how could it be any other way?

This was the city that saw me grow up.
The city that saw me graduate from high school and then college.
The one that saw me meet the man of my dreams and eventually marry him.
It's the city where my son was born.
It's where my heart and soul are.
It has some of the best (albeit, not the most healthy) food in the world.
And I'll throw down with anyone who wants to disagree with me that it has the best beer in the world too.

We went to our church for the last time this Sunday.  The priest that said Mass was the priest that married us (four years ago yesterday) and baptized TIH (two years ago next week.)  I've known him for over 15 years.  In his blessing, he reminded us that we will always have a home there.
I know he's right.

This place is a part of me.  It is who I am and who I will always be.

But, I'm still excited to see the version of myself that I become with the flair of a new city.
And that?  Takes no courage at all.

This could be the end of everything

So why don't we go

Somewhere only we know...