I’m sitting blankly with so much to say and yet nothing at all. It’s a feeling I’ve become accustomed to lately, in so many situations, but for those who know me personally- it’s not like me at all. Admittedly, I’m the girl who usually always can come up with something to say. Yet today, at this moment I find myself reaching.
It was on this day, two years ago, that we rolled a U-haul into Raleigh. It was exciting but terrifying. We had a small savings that had to be extended an unnamed period of time, no jobs, a temporary-permanent residency (thanks to dear friends), and a faith that somehow it would all work out. It was a wonderful leap of faith but to be honest if it wasn’t for a visit with my Dad in June, yes the June merely 30 days prior, it probably would’ve taken us much longer, if ever, to take said leap. He made it known too, and he took full credit for us making the final decision to uproot our lives. Truth be told, he’s probably right.
It was on this same day, two years ago, that I embraced my father for what would be the last time. We had met up in Atlantic City for our annual family reunion vacay. It was a middle of the road stopping point for us and a way to make the move more of a vacation and I’m so glad to have those memories. We all celebrated Charlotte’s first birthday together the day before. Played in the sand, ate yummy food, laughed so hard and had incredibly deep heart-felt conversations. I can’t help but reference a Jimmy V- clip that has been a constant in my mind and morning routine (blame it on the day job) but that week was a full-day, everyday. We laughed, we thought and we cried every single day. It was beautiful and I can say that morning when we left I was moved to tears, again. Something about that hug, that smile and that “take care of yourself; remember where you came from and you’ll do just fine” was different than the hundreds of times I’d received this very same go-get-em speech I’d received for the last decade+. I had an inkling on that day that it might be the last time I hear it, but no one really let’s themselves go, there.
Today, July 27, has become such a bittersweet memory for me. I owe so much to my Dad and everything we’ve accomplished thus far is in large part to him. He never doubted us. He believed in me, he believed in Brent, our marriage, our family and it is so hard to think about how wonderful the feeling was as we pulled into the driveway that day. Greeted by some of our dearest friends, ready to take on this new chapter in our lives, but I knew even on that day that something wasn’t right. I remember breaking down in the bathroom, but no one wants to think about it, no one wants it to be real and yet two years later, on July 27 I have that exact same feeling. Speechless.
I’m told time heals and obviously it does, well not so much time for me but my faith. Regardless, life goes on, I get it; but dates are a funny thing. They all seem to be associated with something, good or bad, happy or sad. Dates are either something to look forward to or something to avoid. Something that makes you cry or something that makes you smile, what a conflicting feeling it is when it stimulates both…