Turning The Page

A forgotten shoe. A backpack stuffed with treasured plastic toys that couldn't be packed. Mountains of brown cardboard and dim yellow lights. We've been in this house eleven months and seven days, hardly long enough to leave an impression or build a home some would say.

I would disagree.

A life is made of a moments. A home is built out of choices and chances. A word here, a look there, tiny things building something bigger.

Often you don't even know what's being built until you stop and look back. Sometimes what you set out to make isn't there. Sometimes you have a disaster on your hands. Sometimes a work of art.

I'm not sure what I created in Kansas. We're leaving behind good friends and good schools. I never fell in love with the weather, but there's a solid, quiet sort of beauty in the Midwest. I understand why people love it even if I wasn't persuaded to buy a retirement home here.

Our next move will be into a hotel. Something I found thrilling at five lost its splendor over the past twenty-odd years of living. Bad mattresses, stiff pillows, and not being able to find a snack at 3am all take the magic out of transient living. We'll survive. There are worse things than cheap hotels. At least we aren't trying our luck camping this time of year. And, when you get right down to it, a roof is a roof. Being dry, warm, and safe make up for everything else.

After the hotels it's on to the wild frontier of Alaska. From Pensacola with the forts and pirate history to the Great North and cities almost three decades old! I don't know what to think. I don't know the area or the wildlife. I can't instantly name six edible plants to forage in any given month in Alaska. My kids are trained in winter survival. When's tsunami season? I don't know!

Let's be honest, for someone who prefers being over-prepared this is a little bit scary. Not zombies-breaking-the-windows scary, but unnerving. It's an adventure. I'm turning the page, closing a chapter, and I don't know what happens next. I can't peek at the last page and make sure this has a happy ending. All I can do is build a happy life, one choice at a time, and hope the life I create will look as beautiful in Alaska as it would with a warmer climate.

Here's to adventure, my lovelies! May the next plot twist always be the best.