As I sit here, in a small quaint coffee shop, in a far different setting of sweaters, hats, boots, and scarves, I catch a glimpse of my blurred reflection interrupted by the cursive lettering of Bella Caffe. As I gaze out the window at the hunter's widows scurrying from door to door, I can't help but get swept up in my blur. A blur that takes me back to my last entry, where I sat in a coffee shop, ocean side, with salty ocean hair and sand stained skin. As the ocean breeze tousled my hair, the sound of the waves coupled with softness of the wind gave me goose bumps much like the crisp breeze is doing to me now. The acoustic music coupled with the aroma of Twin Cities coffee takes me back to the moment when I knew it was time for me to go home. A moment that I will forever remember as I took my last sip of Kona coffee. A moment where I knew my life as a gypsy was coming to an end. As an entire new life was about to begin...whether I fully understood that at the time or not.
Reflections...
It has been nearly 6 months since I have been back on the Mainland and what a 6 months it has been. (I have not written since Hawaii as I found myself to be in a state of shock, uninspired, and just plain lost) I still remember getting off the airplane and seeing my Mom drive up. Goosebumps of being home. Seeing a familiar face. Receiving a loving hug. A feeling we all crave. We all need. After getting re-acquainted with the family, it was time to rekindle my relationship with Fargo. A place I always said I would move back to, a place I have referred to as home. Yet a place I found myself scared to go back to. Funny how being on the road, moving every 3 months, and knowing no one did not scare me nearly as much as returning back to a place where I once called home. Strange? I know. But I knew life was not going to be the same as when I left, as everyone's life had moved on, changed, grew in different ways than my own. We were no longer college graduates in the pursuit of landing our dream job. Instead, my friends are now wives, mothers, care givers. I found myself to be a jumbled up ball of nerves, much how I felt in the Los Angeles airport the day I left for Hawaii. Scared. Confused. Waiting. Wondering. Anticipating.
I remember vividly as a kid my Grandparents saying under their breath, "Where on Earth does the time go? I can't believe it's almost Summer, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter..." I used to think they were crazy as I found time to just tic by. However, the older I get, the more I agree. Yet another aspect of life our parents were "right" about. I just spent two and a half years on the road, traveling from city to city, job to job, apartment to apartment. Two and a half Years!! Don't get me wrong, There were times where the three months felt like weeks, whereas other times it felt like years. While I was lost and enjoying life in my little bubble, I felt as if time stood still. As there is something about an adventure that keeps a person youthful, spirited, and alive. Meeting new people, exploring different areas, trying unique food, experiencing other cultures, starting a new job...all extremely addicting. Much like a smoker craves nicotine, an alcoholic craves a drink, I crave adventure and freedom. I have often been called a "gypsy". A term that I once took offense to. A term that I now own and am proud of. As I've met countless people who tell me that I have changed and touched their lives in ways I will never truly understand. I've found, I like that. I crave that. And need that. "A gypsy soul"... now makes me smile and day dream and wonder if I will find that same addiction back "home."
Back to reality...
As it turns out, time did not stand still. My sun-kissed highlites are actually silver hairs, my temporary squint in reality are fine wrinkles, and my once flexible body seems to be a bit stiff and rigid. Funny how when you are surrounded by people who are in the same chapter of life as yourself, we tend to overlook the changes taking place around us. It wasn't until I moved back to the Midwest did I suddenly feel 33. As it turns out, everyone and everything thing around me has grown older and wiser. My baby sister is now a wife and Mother to be, My older sister became a mom for the second time, my grandma turned 90, my puppy is no longer a puppy, even the house where I grew up seems older, creakier, almost vintage. Suddenly my carefree life no longer seems so carefree. Instantly, I feel old, claustrophobic.
But as life on the Mainland tends to be, I did not even have time to acknowledge my thoughts. I hardly had enough time to unpack before I packed my life back up and moved to Fargo to start my travel assignment. Shortly thereafter, I was brought to tears while watching my sister marry the love of her life in Custer, SD:
and then just a few weeks later, be a part of Miss Tara's wedding:
...Where I found myself. Waiting. Wondering. Anticipating...when is it going to be my turn? After all, I've been blessed to be in so many weddings, I have a dress in every color of the rainbow, except for one...the most important one. The one that's supposed to mean forever. Last forever. Lost in thought, I found myself trying not to blink as I felt my eyes welling up with tears. Tears of happiness. Tears of sadness. Tears of the unknown. Waiting. Wondering. And still anticipating.
Then a quick trip on the 4th of July to visit my cousin, Jennifer, and the lovely city of Boston. I must say, I was quite taken from the very beginning. I hope to visit again soon.
Next came my Sweet Grandma's 90th birthday party. A 2 day event as it should be for such a special lady.
Reflections...
As much as I wanted to stay on my never ending carnival ride, it was time to hang it up. Call it quits. Open a new door..
A door that opens to... my very own house. Yes, if there is one quality I gained as a travel nurse it is to jump into life head first. Why rent when I can own? To be quite honest, I never imagined in a million years I would be buying a house by myself. I guess I always envisioned doing it with my husband. A happy yet eye opening experience. Having said that, my offer was accepted on my 33rd birthday and I was able to celebrate with my parents and cousin, Josh at the Hodo. A feeling I won't soon forget. Goosebumps. Butterflies. Tears of happiness. Tears of sadness. Tears of the unknown. But a decision I won't ever regret as I simply now have a place to call home. A place to call mine. An expression of me, of who I am, and about who I plan to become.
Now I do not want to paint a picture that I was all put together and knew the first thing about buying a house. To be quite honest, I knew as much about buying a house as I do about reading a map...absolutely NOTHING. However, I did have 3 "musts" and rules I made with my realtor upon meeting him at 'hello'. (Bless his heart) Number 1: I wanted something unique, different...maybe even a bit quirky like me. Secondly, it had to be affordable. And lastly: it must be an easy re-sell. Check. Check. and Check...I hope!
After looking at what seemed to be the same cookie cutter bi-level over and over (not a fan) I finally came across a place that felt like me. After almost driving my realtor to retirement, I purchased a 3 level condo loft. Don't get me wrong, it was not love at first sight, as the previous owner was a bachelor and the decor was that of a bachelor pad. Imagine: White walls, boxy furniture, weight room, solid colored everything, little decor. Then combine that with my vision: empty canvas, empty rooms, no dishes, no couches, no beds, no nothing! I basically let my imagination run wild. After much time spent on picking out paint colors (Thanks Quinn), endlessly shopping for furniture (thank you to ALL the sales people who put up with my indecisiveness), I now have a place I have absolutely fallen in love with. I've made a promise to myself to not overspend, over buy, or over do anything. As my subconscious always reminds me how happy I was in Hawaii with just the basics. And I plan to keep my house simple yet full of life.
Of course, I did come across a few bumps in my road as I took on the title of "homeowner." I swear it's an unwritten rule or some initiation process that we don't know about. But EVERY new homeowner always goes through some type of drama. Well mine consisted of this: A furnace that went out 12 days after moving in, a hole knocked in my freshly, professionally painted wall by the furniture movers, plugged drains, stained carpets, and my my personal favorite: I spent my first night in a vacant house with wine, pizza corner, 2 sleeping bags, and dixie cups.(the first time I questioned my life donation to Good Will) A great way to spend a first night in my new home. A moment I will never forget. A moment so perfect you don't want it to end. So naturally I took a picture so it wouldn't end. Isn't that what they are for?
Reflections...
So as I sit here in my place, with fireplace lit and candles aglow, I can't help but reflect. Reflect on the life I have grown to know as a nomad. Reflect on the impulse decision to fulfill my dream and become a homeowner. Reflect on how blessed I am to have such a great family and to be close to them. Reflect on how I miss my travel lifestyle and all the amazing people I met. Reflect on how happy I was while living life so simply. Reflect on how I ecstatic I am that my days at the local laundromat are over (Washer and dryer are to be delivered this weekend). And as I come to what should be my last pair of socks to fold, I come up one short. I swear no matter how many times I make sure all my socks enter the wash, I always end up one short of a pair. Even though we never know what really happens to that sock or even miss it for that matter, it's still frustrating not have an even pair at the end of laundry day. Kind of like life sometimes. As I sit here in my warm, inviting house, feeling super blessed, I can't help feel like a part of me is missing... and that part of me involves a suitcase, passport, and friends I've yet to meet.
Maybe some of us aren't meant to have the white wedding, twin home, or permanent job...but rather, are meant to be a free spirit, leave our mark on this world, and imprints on people's hearts.
Stuck somewhere between a gypsy and a significant other, an Auntie and a Bachelorette, my dreams abroad, and my heart at home, I am lost in thought as I stare at my reflection in the mirror and am reminded of my past, my present, and perhaps my future. Waiting. Wondering. Anticipating. What's next?
