one year


Last year at this time I had just moved to this state, left a relationship of six years, and started the rest of my life.

This year, I’ve settled into life in the country, have made some friends, and have put my life into God’s hands.

Last year I was struggling to  define who I was, to understand how I fit into my family, and was getting a handle on being a single parent.

This year I stand confidently for what I believe in, I have a fluid definition of family, and can settle into the role that is needed at any particular moment, and I have learned to live with only showering twice a week.

Last year I was terrified of the future.

This year, the future looks blindingly bright.

One of my friends from FB posted this quote today:

“If winter is slumber and spring is birth, and summer is life, then autumn rounds out to be reflection”  ~ Mitchel Burgess

And reflect I have.  And you know what?  I’m proud of what I see.  Starting over and building a new life is messy.  I’ve struggled through the muck, and emerged on the other side strong and pleased to be alive.

I want to post this video or Rowan, not because he’s being particularly cute, or because he does something amazing.  He’s simply happy to alive.  To be here.  To be him.  In the past year he has blossomed and thrived, and grown from a bubbly baby into a talking, singing, jumping, and joyful kid.  We spent a couple of hours yesterday raking and jumping and raking and jumping.  The weather was perfect, it was just the two of us, and I couldn’t help but marvel at how far we’ve come in just one  year.

Home is where the heart is.


I was born and raised in New England, under those huge, bright skies, with air so crisp, you could taste it.  I grew up saying things like, “wicked cool” and “New Hampsha.”  We had more months with snow, than without.  The one month out of the year that was actually hot, was so humid you couldn’t walk to your car without a towel to mop up the sweat.  The bugs were bad, the mountains beautiful.  It was a way of life, and I loved it.

In a few weeks I am going to get to return to my beloved home state for a much overdue visit.  I picked the best time to go-fall.  You’ve heard all the rumors about how amazing fall in New England is, right?  Every one of them are true. 

From the blazing colors of the foliage, to the smell of billions of apples in an orchard, to acres and acres of pumpkin patches, it’s no wonder fall is legendary in New England.  I’m going to get the thrill of sharing all that with my son, recall all the years I spent as a child crunching through the leaves, and get the joy of making new memories with people I care about.

Fall in West Virginia is nice too.  It’s  cool, and clean, and the leaves make a valiant effort to rival those in the north.  I hesitate to even make a comparison though, because there really is no topping New England.  Not to say we won’t enjoy the festivals and trick-or-treating.  We’ll drink hot cider and carve pumpkins.  It will be delightful.

I used to long to return to the southwest.   I still love it there.  I left a piece of myself in New Mexico, and every now and then I go visit it.  I hold the memories of my son being born there close, and will always carry them with me.

The longer I live on the eastern side of the country though, the more I realize my heart is still in New England.  It is engrained into every fiber of who I am, and there is no use fighting it. 

I am a New England girl, through and through.