"I seldom end up where I wanted to go,
but almost always end up where I need to be."
Last night after Ryan voiced his opinion that moving to be closer to school, friends, and activities no longer appealed to him, we finally made the decision after years of indecision to stay put and truly make this house our home for many years to come.
Chris took the house off the market today. No more thoughts of moving. Ever.
As I sit here relaxing on our front porch, listening to the mixture of whispers and screams waft through the air as the neighborhood kids play "Ghost in the Graveyard," the thought of trying to replicate such a scene some place else seems absurd. This is truly a gem of a neighborhood, where pick up games of kick-the-can, capture the flag, kickball, and hide-n-seek are the norm. A rare neighborhood where we have 25 kids between the ages of 2 and 16 . . . a place where everyone has a friend.
A neighborhood where childhood memories are forged on cool summer evenings like tonight.
But it's not just for my children, I came to the realization on my Sunday morning walk with Lucy up the Quarry Trail that I need these mountains . . . I need the pure beauty of it all. I don't think I can give this up - give up brilliant springs, the glorious autumns, the smell of fresh pine, nor the scent of the creek as it rushes downstream. The granite walls of our canyon have truly become home and my walks and trail runs are not only routine, but have become an essential part of who I am.
It must have been our destiny all along. We were meant to stay, and now that we've come to that conclusion with the lessons learned along the way, it feels oh, so right.
The neighborhood is now dark and silent, the children have all disappeared inside, and I'm alone with the familiar sound of crickets chirping, the canyon breeze, and the stars. Indeed it was meant to be, we just took the long way around before we figured it out.
Sometimes that's just life . . . it's patterned for slow learners like myself :-).