It’s been a year since I posted for the first time on The Oregon Tail. I can’t believe how much has changed. A few months ago Ryan asked me what was going to happen to The Oregon Tail. Did I feel like it was time to end the story I had felt compelled to tell?
We sat in our living room and talked about it for over an hour coming to the conclusion that perhaps it was time to write the last post and end it. Hadn’t I accomplished the feat that seemed so enormous? We moved, made friends, settled a bit. I had started to feel a shift inside. I was okay with being here. We did it.
And I really was ready to end it all. This post, September 3, 2011 was going to be it. I could print out these posts, staple them together, and tuck them away. One year seemed like a perfect place to call it quits.
But then, I couldn’t do it. This blog was the thing that kept me going. I would write unencumbered by the fact that I was brand new in a place where I knew nobody and everyone I did know was far, far away. The writing became an outlet for the range of emotions I felt during this first year. Clicking publish let me acknowledge everything that was swirling around inside and then let me move on. It was hard sometimes. To put down those raw feelings, worrying that people would worry about me. Or wonder if I was happy, if everything was okay. To risk being talked about, perhaps judged. What I found instead was an outpouring of support.
The year went on and I could feel a change in me. Less posting about what had been lost and more posting about what I had been given. Now I’m trying to find a comfortable place between where I’m from and where I’m going. I don’t know where we will be living in 10 years or even 5 years. It just happens to be the way it is for our family. I’m not sure if I will ever have the experience of a forever place. And that makes my life have this irresistable adventurelike quality.
I am happy that I get to tuck these experiences with my family into this little corner of the world I can call my own, maybe for always or maybe just for now. All I do know is that I’m not done telling our stories.