We moved to our village five years ago. I think it was in April. We had spent the previous year working our asses off on doing everything we could to save money as we built our house... the pay off was finally moving in and then getting to enjoy the spring and early summer in the mountains.
One of the surprises was the music. Loads of musicians like to come to this one boulevard community and play their hearts out. I think one of the draws is the way the sound bounces off the canyon walls... those musical notes just go everywhere.
Five years ago in mid-July we were getting ready to fly out to Ethiopia. To meet our son. To climb that mountain top, unfurl those prayer flags, and see what would happen. Ends up lots would happen. Lots and lots would happen and would continue to happen and will always happen. We knew nothing about anything at that time, only that our hearts were ready to explode and any and all extra formula needed to go in ziplock gallon baggies for packing purposes.
The night before we left we were sitting on the front lawn, drinking cold beers, admiring the skies, and listening to a national slide guitar champion play for the folks in the mountains. His voice reminded me of all the moments my husband and I had as we were getting to know each other... all that time we spent falling in love before graduation and real jobs and family stressors. We listened to lots of music in school, on road trips, driving through the fields of Kansas and the mountains of Colorado, just hanging out in backyards and feeling love, love, love. Guitars and voices.
Yes indeed. All that music in the air took me back in time and then forced me in the present moment and then BAM! had my brain traveling forward into the future. All those hopes and dreams and experiences hitting me at once. Made it hard to breathe.
Tonight, on the eve of the anniversary when we met our son for the first time and he met us, I could hear the music of the same guitarist coming in through our open windows. He was just down the street, playing his tunes for the folks in the mountains. Everything sounded exactly the same... and his voice still took me back to those early moments with the love of my life. Only now, five years later, those moments include the waiting for our family to burst by one. Our last moments as just the two of us... before it all changed in such incredible ways.
Tonight. The skies are still blue. The beer is still in our hands. But our hearts are no longer our own. Our worries are no longer our own. No. We are spread. We are stretched and we are spread... and while sometimes it can seem incredibly painful, there is much to say about how growing pains bring forth some of the most amazing kinds of love and patience and compassion.
We are thankful. We are touched by music, bu others, and we love. We love, love, love.
One of the surprises was the music. Loads of musicians like to come to this one boulevard community and play their hearts out. I think one of the draws is the way the sound bounces off the canyon walls... those musical notes just go everywhere.
Five years ago in mid-July we were getting ready to fly out to Ethiopia. To meet our son. To climb that mountain top, unfurl those prayer flags, and see what would happen. Ends up lots would happen. Lots and lots would happen and would continue to happen and will always happen. We knew nothing about anything at that time, only that our hearts were ready to explode and any and all extra formula needed to go in ziplock gallon baggies for packing purposes.
The night before we left we were sitting on the front lawn, drinking cold beers, admiring the skies, and listening to a national slide guitar champion play for the folks in the mountains. His voice reminded me of all the moments my husband and I had as we were getting to know each other... all that time we spent falling in love before graduation and real jobs and family stressors. We listened to lots of music in school, on road trips, driving through the fields of Kansas and the mountains of Colorado, just hanging out in backyards and feeling love, love, love. Guitars and voices.
Yes indeed. All that music in the air took me back in time and then forced me in the present moment and then BAM! had my brain traveling forward into the future. All those hopes and dreams and experiences hitting me at once. Made it hard to breathe.
Tonight, on the eve of the anniversary when we met our son for the first time and he met us, I could hear the music of the same guitarist coming in through our open windows. He was just down the street, playing his tunes for the folks in the mountains. Everything sounded exactly the same... and his voice still took me back to those early moments with the love of my life. Only now, five years later, those moments include the waiting for our family to burst by one. Our last moments as just the two of us... before it all changed in such incredible ways.
Tonight. The skies are still blue. The beer is still in our hands. But our hearts are no longer our own. Our worries are no longer our own. No. We are spread. We are stretched and we are spread... and while sometimes it can seem incredibly painful, there is much to say about how growing pains bring forth some of the most amazing kinds of love and patience and compassion.
We are thankful. We are touched by music, bu others, and we love. We love, love, love.
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