Not as we.

I think that when tragedy strikes there is a very clear dividing line about those to whom the tragedy directly involves and the rest of us.

A few days ago several officers served by my old dispatch center were shot, one fatally. I'm devastated. I'm feeling even worse that I wasn't there to help. I wish daily that there is something I could do to really give aid to those unsung heroes.

In all of this I'm feeling distinctly 'former'. Even if I'd stayed with the dispatch center up until the day we moved, I'd have missed this moment. I wasn't meant to be there. That doesn't change my sorrow at both being outside that community and helpless to alleviate their pain.

I think one of the most difficult things about moving is reestablishing the network of friends and like-minded locals. It's something I put great effort into every new place we go. Often I find that one of two of the people I meet in a particular location are life-long friends to me.

In the weeks before I find that community, that anchoring friend, I'm quite lonely and sometimes a bit depressed about the new location.

Michael has yet to experience this with me and he's quite concerned despite my protestations that this is simply my process. Every single move is nearly identical but similarity doesn't make them easier.

I'm sure I'll come out the other side. I'm sure I'll find friends and community here. I have some already and a great in-law family that are softening the blow. But for these few moments, watching the images of an officer laid to rest with his young family left behind, of a community I miss coming together to honor their police force, I'm feeling a particularly stinging sadness and loneliness. Instead of berating myself for this or feeling like I "shouldn't" be sad, I'm going to be sad, live with it, and make sure that I continue living and unpacking boxes, loving my husband in the meantime and soon I'll look around and wonder where the sadness has gone.

And then we moved to Texas.

Today we finished the last of our three day drive to San Antonio. The pugs and cat traveled well, which was a blessing indeed. We went out of Utah quietly and did so intentionally--both Mike and I hate goodbyes. It's probably not the best model for leaving a place we loved but it worked pretty well.

Christmas this year was hosted at our house and was a great success! To have such a loud, opinionated, loving family is wonderful. Also, on December 26th they started packing and our house never would have been ready without their hard work. It's tough to even find the words to thank them.

And now just days later we're here with my in-laws ringing in 2012 and getting ready for the new house. We finish the paperwork on Tuesday and I'm anxious to get inside, get some painting down and settle down to see what life will be like here. I can't help thinking we'll be in Texas longer than we were in Utah but I know it's not our 'forever' home.

What a year! I'll be sad to see it go but I'm excited for the new one!

I should know better.

Any time I make a time-specific goal for blogging I fail.

In early November I drove down to see Mike in Texas for a couple of weeks. Both doggies were with me. About a week before I was scheduled to be home, and over three weeks before we expected it, my baby sister called me and said, "Your new niece is going to make her entrance into this earth tomorrow morning. Can you come?"

Of course, I did. I flew home leaving the vehicles, the dogs, my husband and all products over 4 oz. in Texas and I've been flying by the seat of my pants since.

Elizabeth is beautiful and so very tiny. I was able to be in the room when she was born and capture the first seconds of her new life. It was a perfect way to start using my camera again and a moment I'll never forget. Lizzie weighed just over four pounds but was a long girl for that tiny weight and is the tiniest baby I've ever held. She's grown a bit but is still not over five pounds.

My parents got a last minute flight to come meet Lizzie as well so instead of a large family Thanksgiving with the Garis Clan it was just my parents and I celebrating. It was a good day but it did make me feel very far from my husband--it turns out I'm in love with him.

The rest of the month has been spent working out transportation, packing boxes, finding ways to work around the fact that we can't sell our house (the answer: renters) and making the arrangements for the new house.

Yeah, that's right. We manage to buy a new house in there too.

Then a couple of weeks ago I went up to Montana and just folded in on myself for a couple of days with my family. I'd made promises for that weekend that I didn't keep. I feel terrible about that. I hurt the feelings of a dear friend and I'm not quite sure how to fix it, but I'm trying.

I'm now six days away from the reunion with my doggies and my husband and I'm thrilled to be done with this separation. I don't think we'll be doing this again in mortality, it's simply too difficult. I truly have no idea how the partners of service people function!

And that concludes my excuses. Now you know. And next time I'll tell you how my new memoir will be called, "How the Turducken Killed Christmas."

A home, perhaps?

Today we looked at eight houses. We've narrowed it down to three. It's possible tomorrow that we'll have Mike's parents go with us to have some fresh eyes.

When we narrow it down I'll post some pictures.

I'd say more but I'm exhausted and I'm going to go do mindless things.

It's not my fault, it's Texas.

I spent the early days of this week in the long journey to San Antonio where I'll be until Thanksgiving weekend. It was as difficult as I remembered and far less fun without my husband beside me to mock and do most of the driving. The pugs kept me company but the result of that was needing the car detailed today and the poor worker saying to me, "I got most of the dog hair out but there's only so much I can do."

I just said, "Trust me, I understand."

Tomorrow is a big day of house hunting and finding our home for this city. I'm excited and somewhat daunted by the prospect but I'm looking forward to the process because, for the first time, we'll be doing this together.

That together thing? It's pretty great. I missed my big lug.

Guiding Light

At the end of this week it will be a full year since I was in Colorado for a workshop with Jen Lee. We had a quiet moment there where we talked about her idea for reaching more people than were able to attend our small gathering with her message of sharing stories, of healing and self discovery. Today, she's released that project. I would suggest kindly that if anyone is interested in discovering, documenting and directing their own stories you head over to her site and check it out.

Here's the video she made about the project:

Story Work is Soul Work from Jen Lee on Vimeo.

My favorite quote, summarizing the project perfectly is this: "It's about stopping people in their tracks. It's about bring something to the conversation that only you posses. It's about excavating your bravest, boldest self and letting yourself be seen like you've never been seen before. It's about time for you to stand up and be heard.

It's your story.

Tell it."

Ouch

I think that the world is thriving on making my plans liquid. I was set to leave early tomorrow morning for SAT and now I'm going to the dentist instead.

I'd write more but the tooth ache is so terribly intense that it makes opening my eyes painful and my lips feel like pressure dressings over the tooth. So, instead, I'll leave you with these few short words and the knowledge that I'm not off the band wagon yet!