Freshman Florida Year

Ok, so it’s still 2 weeks away, but my "one year" anniversary of moving to Florida is fast approaching. While it’s not a birthday, or relationship milestone, it’s looming heavy over my head. It’s been one of the most enlightening, dynamic and tumultuous years of my life and so many different thoughts keep popping into my mind. A good blogging is the therapy I need...

Most Vivid Memories:

Pulling out of the driveway in Delphi, Indiana. I had Goldie in the backseat, and my car loaded down with one-eighth of my belongings that were deemed "important" enough to make the cross-country trek. I had already said good bye to my family about 2 hours earlier, and now I was watching Bryan say good bye to his parents. His mom was wearing her flannel pajamas and white socks, and his dad had just gotten home from the night shift. While his dad checked a few things on the car, his mom just totally lost it. She just starting sobbing, and I felt the first tinge of homesickness for the people and places him and I both loved. For a moment, there was hesitation. We could still change our minds. We could unpack our cars, tell everyone that it was just a big joke, and.... well, still be in Indiana -- longing to try something different. So we pulled out of the driveway, and started our 1200 mile caravan.

8am walks with Goldie in May and June. I had several different part-time jobs when we first arrived, and one was nannying three mornings each week. I had to be there at 9:30am. So, I would roll out of bed, throw on my flip flops and hook up my best pal for an early morning stroll. We wandered all around our new neighborhood -- I would smile at strangers, she would sniff everything in sight. It was almost like nothing smelled the same in Florida to her-- every bush, and tree, and parking lot was more sniffable than the last and we took our time, enjoying the morning. Sometimes we would walk to Starbucks, and she would watch me from the table she was tied to outside as I ordered a daily brew beyond the glass. The morning crew would give me a tall, plastic frappucino cup filled with water so that Goldie could also have some refreshment. We were a very sophisticated pair -- with our Starbucks cups. It was during those mornings that I really started to love my new surroundings. It didn’t feel like vacation anymore... It felt like home.

My summer fling. There has been a lot said about what it was, and what it wasn’t, and what it meant, and what it means now... But the bottom line is that at the time, it felt right. Maybe it was my new surroundings, or missing someone that I had loved desperately for 5 years, or maybe it was just a flash of fate that sparked a lifetime love in my daughter. But something fit for me -- even if it was shortlived. I felt beautiful, and happy, and awakened in ways I hadn’t for a long time. So while it was certainly a turning point in my year (and life), I can honestly say it was a good thing and that maybe my best-laid plans needed to be thrown to the wayside in exchange for something more real.

A long-distance call that no mother wants to receive, and how it surprised me. So many people have been so supportive throughout my pregnancy so far, and a few of the things that people have said really stand out in my mind. The best example is how calm my mother was when I told her the news over the phone. I decided it wasn’t good to keep anything a secret, so I told her that I was pregnant, the deal with the father,, and that I was still considering an abortion. Instead of freaking out (though I’m sure she was inside), she asked me very matter-of-fact questions about how I was feeling, when I needed to make the final decision and how the men in my life were reacting. Nothing that I responded with had to be very reassuring, because I wasn’t feeling great, the men in my life were obviously shaken up and not very supportive and I was one nauseous move from heading to the clinic and ending it the next day. When I told her that I knew how the morals of the whole situation were wrong, she just said, "God doesn’t care about our standards, or morals. He has a plan, and this baby is part of it." That was the moment I stopped feeling guilty, and started feeling empowered. It would do no good to regret anything that had happened. All I could control was the future and it was time to step up. Suddenly, the sun began to trickle through the trees on a road that had looked so lonely and dark. A child was a blessing, no matter how he or she came, and I just knew that I had the strength to be a mother, even if I had to enjoy that sunshine alone.

Christmas. When all you have known your whole life is cold, and snow, and sometimes even ice storms accompanying Christ’s birth, your first Christmas down here is incredible. At first the icicle lights on all the resorts seem silly (seriously, icicles? who are they kidding?), and the Christmas trees in the windows make you laugh out loud because it’s only July (right? it feels like July). But when Thanksgiving hits, and you enjoy your first Florida Turkey Day sitting outside on a patio, eating potato salad, you start to realize the holidays are in full swing, snow or no. And even though it’s just to make an almighty dollar, the light shows, elaborate Christmas trees and other decorations at Disney are breathtaking. Even the fake snow (soap suds, by the way) falling at the Studios reminds you of the real thing (and seeing 5 million lights dance to Manheim Steamroller’s Carol of the Bells doesn’t hurt either). Seeing the Candlelight Processional at Epcot, while Edward James Olmos narrates the Nativity story in English and Spanish, makes you appreciate the power of the Christmas spirit in a new way. Of course, nothing can fill the void you feel when you wake up at 25 years old on Christmas morning, and for the first time ever, don’t meet your parents, brothers and dogs in the living room to open gifts. As the day goes on, you know that they are all opening their presents, and your neice is enjoying her first real Christmas without you (she was only 3 weeks old for her first one), and it stings. But even that hurt serves it’s purpose in making you appreciate your loved ones, and the spirit of the holidays, even more.

A few shorts.... spending the first night here asleep on the living room floor because we had no bed, so exhausted from the trip that we didn’t notice or care... putting a server’s apron back on, even though I swore when I graduated from college that I would "never wait tables again"... getting an unexpected call from the newspaper where I was freelancing, telling me that there was a full time opening I was being considered for... drinking too much at Arabian Nights, but having the best birthday ever... free tickets to Medieval Nights, and shrimp cocktail included... stealing my family for a whole week, and having them all to myself... sitting out on my porch blogging, lots of boxes packed, as I contemplate what changes my sophomore year here will bring, and feeling my baby squirm in her home that will soon be too small. Just like her momma, she will undoubtedly have a restless streak, and need to move, and stretch, and take risks and become 100 different versions of herself throughout her life. And even though there will be times my mothering instinct will want to hold her back, I hope that she is lucky enough to have at least one year like the one I’ve had -- and if she’s really fortunate, maybe 4 or 5.