Been thinking about it lately. Not missing it, exactly. Just thinking about how long it’s been. And trying to remember it.
My parents grew up in Tennessee for thirty years. That’s longer than I’ve been alive. There’s so much living there. But it feels like another world, another life. Time is so precious and meaningful, and we experience so much in a lifetime. But it’s only in hindsight that we realize it. That we can see just how blessed we were, and how crucial change was.
It took me forever to get over leaving Texas. I had wrapped my identity up with my living location. Missing my old life was my escape route when my current life was hard. It was so easy to just shrug off my new home and call myself a Texan. But that was stupid, and I see that now. And I don’t regret how I reacted to moving—because I learned a lot—but I hope that next time, wherever I end up, I embrace it. Because it’s only temporary. In this life, it’s always only temporary.
That is all I have to say.
mp 