Reflections

 It's been so long since I sat myself down to write something that I almost don't know where to begin.  I imagine most people forgot I even had a "blog" (is it even considered a blog anymore if you haven't written in it for years?).  There have been moments throughout the past few years that I thought to myself that I should sit down and pen those thoughts to paper, so to speak, but have either lacked the discipline, motivation, or thought that some things were better left unsaid.  So here I find myself, not knowing for sure what has made this moment any different than before. 

I read over my last blog post, in which I discussed our big move to Montana, and all the emotions that went with that transition.  Now, here I am again, months after another move, this time to Wyoming, having experienced many of the same emotions, only now coupled with this year being, well, it being 2020 (you guys feel me).  

This morning I have spent time working on my calendar.  Every year I create a calendar on Shutterfly with all our favorite photos from the year before.  I will hang it in my kitchen and use it almost as a journal, recording important, and not so important, moments that happen.  I always get nostalgic when I am looking through all the photos I have taken but this year I felt something akin to sadness.  Why?

Just a couple weeks ago I was having a conversation about this year with someone.  She made a comment that was something like,"I haven't done a thing this year!"  Of course we did acknowledge the big election which was...something. And, of course, I understand what she was saying, many people didn't have a lot of activity happen.  Most of us dutifully stayed at home, we quarantined, we refrained from travel.  However, that doesn't mean things didn't happen to you.

As I looked over my year in picture form, starting with January, I noticed many things.  I had literally no pictures for the month of January.  For one short moment I questioned this.  How can I have no pictures? Me? Then it hit,  I was in mourning.  I don't know that I could tell you anything that happened that month.  I remember going to therapy once a week, and that's about it.  February was better, we took the kids skiing and being in the outdoors, even in the snowy cold, did (and still does) wonders for my soul.  Spring came and with it so did COVID and the shutdown.  We tried our best to make the best of this new reality we were living.  We powered through at-home learning, played outside when weather permitted, did our best to celebrate three birthdays in the most meaningful ways we could, and spent a lot of time as a family.  Man, it was hard.  In the midst of all that, we also learned we were moving.

Moving was NOT on our radar.  It was scary, and sad, and frustrating, and exciting all at the same time.  We had to buy a house!  We had to buy a house a state away in the middle of a pandemic!  We had to say our goodbyes, pack, and try to get in as much of Montana as we could, in the midst of a pandemic.  I wouldn't recommend it.  Once more, as with every move we have made, we had to face the hurt and pain of being immediately "removed" from peoples lives.  We had people immediately unfriend us on facebook, others just ignored us if we say them in public.  Others were much more upfront, and told us how angry they were, and still others, said they were angry but understood.  Even now, months later, I mourn those relationships.  It's never easy to move.  All of our moves have been difficult, but as I looked at the pictures, capturing our last moments in Montana, I grieve all over again.  Zach and I both have found that we call Montana "home."  I also grieve what we had, the memories we made, the adventures we went on.  It's another byproduct of this year, our adventures have all but screeched to a halt.  Those activities we did, the places we visited during our time in Montana were meaningful for a number of reasons.  They helped us heal from a bad situation in New Mexico.  They helped distract us from not being able to help out with our families in Texas.  They gave us moments of clarity and cleansing when the world became too much to bear.

Now, I don't want you to think the move was all bad.  It hasn't been.  Wyoming has its own beauty and we have lots of plans to get out and adventure more when the world calms down.  The church here has been very welcoming, even with all that is working against us.  The kids love their schools and have found ways to get involved and fit in.  We love our new home and the fact that it is ours. We have found joy here in many ways.  

But still, sadness hits today.  I know I'm not alone in mourning what once was.  I think it's okay to have those emotions, especially this year.  I am grateful for each of you, for allowing me to process through those feelings.  So often we force ourselves to push through, without proper reflection and commiserating. Im a big believer in feeling your emotions and then choosing not to dwell in the bad ones.  This year has been harder in practice, I've lost my mother, I've lost my home, I've lost relationships, but I know I am not alone.  This year has be wrought with divisions, arguments, political strife, death, illness, anger and so much more.  I hope that for many of us will come to realize that if nothing else, we are not alone in our many emotions. 

Now, I will pack up that sadness and lay it down.  I'm going to find joy and excitement in what is to come for us.  I will find hope in the unknown and peace in the knowing that we are never, ever alone.

Thanks for reading.