It's was a year ago today. A year ago that I did the most grown-up thing of my life. A year ago that I left my little cocoon of a life behind, and started across the plains like a modern day pioneer. It was a miserable morning that day. We awoke early to an unexpected snow storm. We packed up the final necessities, hugged, kissed, and cried our loved ones goodbye, and headed East, into the sunrise. There was definite excitement as we drove. Crossing each new state line brought us closer to a new adventure. There were times when the grief of leaving family behind was almost too much to bear. But we pressed on. It grew colder. We grew more excited. With each passing mile, the draw of a new life brought a new light to our hearts. We knew it was an experience we needed. We knew that our new life was all about what we made it to be.
Without knowing even a single soul, we settled into a new home, new school, and a new church. Friends came easily for all of us, and soon life seemed normal.
Summer came, mom died, and suddenly life, I realized, will never be normal again.
This anniversary brings a gamut of emotions. Sadness, for those months I missed out on while mom was well. Joy, for knowing I can do hard things and make it work. Fulfillment, for seeing my children flourish in a new environment, and trepidation, for not knowing what lies ahead, and seeing first hand that life can change drastically in an instant.
I know that the years pass more and more quickly as time marches on, and each anniversary of this date will lessen the sadness and grief that came with it that first day. Thankfully, those aren't the only feelings I remember. I miss my old life, but I love my new life. And that makes a happy anniversary all around.