Picture Perfect
I had a very sheltered childhood. Born in New York on an air force base. My parents didn't want to raise military brats so he got out and we moved to Monroe, Washington where he got his PHD and my first sister was born. The summer before my first grade year we moved to Katy, Texas. Two more sisters came along and we lived in the same house in Memorial Parkway until I graduated high school. My family moved to Alaska the day after my graduation and I followed a year and half later.
My dad grew up in Ft. Collins, Colorado. Our grandparents and a set of aunt, uncle, and cousins still lived there. So many a summer vacation was spent in Colorado, or a least part of it. We would camp, hike, and fish all over this state. I would always read the sign as we entered "Welcome to Colorful Colorado". I'll do the summer vacation stories another time. Believe it or not, I do have a point with all of this.
Alaska was never home to me. Texas is where I grew up and will always have a place in my heart, but as they say, "You can always go home, but you can never go back." I was very little when we left Washington and younger when we left New York. I have pictures in my head of memories from Washington but not much. We visited one year on vacation and I went through with Brett once too. As little as I was when I left, I still found the red barn next to the street that lead to our house almost 18 years later.
Now, I'm about to get to my point. It is a bit weird, but completely true. No judging.
All these years I've had this picture in my head. Me, in a car, at the top of hill looking down over the street ahead and the mountains in the background. There are buildings, telephone wire, and trees. I have had this image for so long that I thought it was a memory from Monroe. When I found the barn with Brett, I went looking for that hill. It just wasn't there. I blew it off to the fact that I was little when we left and I just didn't know where to find it.
A few months ago I was driving into work and stopped at this light at the top of the hill before I merge onto I25. I've made this drive for practically three years. But there it was. My hill with mountains in the background, the buildings, telephone wires, and trees. I don't know how to explain it. But that was the picture I had been carrying around for so many years, to a T. I see it every morning now. The feeling is unexplainable. You may think I'm crazy, but it so real.
I moved from one coast to the next. My sheltered upbringing didn't shelter me from many of life's pitfalls. And at 33 I still am trying to decide where I want to be. I have one rock though. This is where I belong. Colorado is home. This morning is sunny and was 70 degrees by the time I left the house, absolutely gorgeous morning. As I sat there on my hill looking out I got this sense of calm. If I have nothing else in my life, I am home. No matter how bad things are or get in my life, I am home. Some people search all their life for where they belong. It is a truly amazing feeling and I wish it for everyone. I love this freakin state!
My dad grew up in Ft. Collins, Colorado. Our grandparents and a set of aunt, uncle, and cousins still lived there. So many a summer vacation was spent in Colorado, or a least part of it. We would camp, hike, and fish all over this state. I would always read the sign as we entered "Welcome to Colorful Colorado". I'll do the summer vacation stories another time. Believe it or not, I do have a point with all of this.
Alaska was never home to me. Texas is where I grew up and will always have a place in my heart, but as they say, "You can always go home, but you can never go back." I was very little when we left Washington and younger when we left New York. I have pictures in my head of memories from Washington but not much. We visited one year on vacation and I went through with Brett once too. As little as I was when I left, I still found the red barn next to the street that lead to our house almost 18 years later.
Now, I'm about to get to my point. It is a bit weird, but completely true. No judging.
All these years I've had this picture in my head. Me, in a car, at the top of hill looking down over the street ahead and the mountains in the background. There are buildings, telephone wire, and trees. I have had this image for so long that I thought it was a memory from Monroe. When I found the barn with Brett, I went looking for that hill. It just wasn't there. I blew it off to the fact that I was little when we left and I just didn't know where to find it.
A few months ago I was driving into work and stopped at this light at the top of the hill before I merge onto I25. I've made this drive for practically three years. But there it was. My hill with mountains in the background, the buildings, telephone wires, and trees. I don't know how to explain it. But that was the picture I had been carrying around for so many years, to a T. I see it every morning now. The feeling is unexplainable. You may think I'm crazy, but it so real.
I moved from one coast to the next. My sheltered upbringing didn't shelter me from many of life's pitfalls. And at 33 I still am trying to decide where I want to be. I have one rock though. This is where I belong. Colorado is home. This morning is sunny and was 70 degrees by the time I left the house, absolutely gorgeous morning. As I sat there on my hill looking out I got this sense of calm. If I have nothing else in my life, I am home. No matter how bad things are or get in my life, I am home. Some people search all their life for where they belong. It is a truly amazing feeling and I wish it for everyone. I love this freakin state!
posted by alwaysd | 10:57 AM
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