April 16, 2010
And so it begins.
As I sit here, 10,000 feet in the air somewhere over New York, I still have a hard time believing that we’re really doing this. Moving our little family halfway across the country to start a new life in the suburbs of Chicago. Growing up in Massachusetts, my better half and I always assumed we’d offer the same for our children. Eight years ago this month we closed on our first house, just a few weeks shy of becoming parents for the first time.
It was decidedly the ugliest house on the block, practically falling down when we saw it that first time. But after 8 years of blood, sweat and tears in a labor of love (and sometimes hate), we resurrected it from it’s dismal state into the swan we always knew it could be.
Marc said many times that the only way he was leaving that house was in a pine box. It was where we were going to stay forever, with room to grow a family, to entertain friends and bring our extended family closer together. We saw our lives stretched out before us, with 48 Edgewater Drive in Pembroke at the center of it.
But sometimes fate has different plans.
In a crummy economy, when the job of your husband’s dreams falls into your lap unsolicited…right near your brother and new sister in law…in a city that your parents can’t compliment enough and are planning on visiting regularly…in a place that everyone you meet has nothing but wonderful things to say about…in a town whose name has been finding its way into your life long before you understood why…
Well, you don’t say no when opportunity knocks that hard.
We’ve never been afraid to take risks, Marc and I. Calculated risks of course, but risks nonetheless. And those risks have always payed out big for us – they have helped us grow as individuals, strengthen our bond as a couple (and now as a family) and (along with a boatload of hard work) have afforded us the success that has gotten us to the point we’re at today.
Adventure beckons. And as the airline I’m flying is fond of saying….”It’s ON!”.
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