Migrating South

When I think about growing up in Rockport, I think about my hair being frizzy from the humidity and wind. I think about running around in shorts and tank tops for 90% of my life, and bundling up on the rare occasion that it got below 70 degrees. I think about the sand that was always scattered around town living permanently in doormats, floorboards and shower drains.

In August, we'll be packing up our girls, and our dog, and moving back.

Us on family vaca last summer

Instead of fighting sleep tolerating the bass of rap music, there will be seagulls and bull frogs, and the occasional Jimmy Buffet single floating on the breeze. There won't be a difference in the seasons, just hot, sticky spring, summer, and fall, and cool, dry winter-ish. There are no mega churches in Rockport, but the few churches without pews and psalm books are a little controversial.

The trade off's seem pretty equal for the most part, but I know that I'm trading my friends for family. My family...like, my ENTIRE family lives within an hour of Rockport, and Eamon's parents and brother live there too. I'm pretty excited for my girls to be close to our family. Playing in "Gra-munk's" [what Lily calls my mom] pool and swinging in her backyard, and chasing Norah around Grandpa Burke's huge yard are things that I hope they take advantage of.
But I feel like I've just recently got a grasp on how to grow and maintain my friendships here, and now I have to leave them. When I was little we moved around A LOT before we finally settled in Rockport. By the time I started school there I took a strong "I'm not going to try to make any friends because we're just going to move again" and it really effected me. I was an outcast for a long time and by the time I finally accepted that we were staying there, I was so socially awkward that it made it impossible for me to undo the damage. By the time I left Rockport I had a very close-knit group of people that I depended on and was semi terrified of the change that was ahead of me.

The last night I lived in Rockport. I sorta had faded out red hair at the time...shoot me.

This kind of mindset has always been kind of hard for me to shake, but I finally let my guard down here and have some amazing friendships because of it. But now what? I feel as if I have to chose my family over my friends, and honestly, the friends I've made ARE my family here. When I've needed a sister I've been able to call Katie or Keri or Morgan, when I've needed some motherly advice, Michelle has always given me some solid answers. Bob and Ann have swooped in and saved the day on many occasion and have been a sort of surrogate family to us. And Angela, what about her? Who is gonna be there for me like she has during my pregnancy? I know God has a plan for us, I know we're going to bloom there, but why does this have to be so hard?!
I feel like God took the time to grow us here. To mature us and have us fight quite a few battles for a while. I feel like He's been preparing me for a role of leadership, but I don't know where. For about five minutes every day since we've made this decision I throw a tantrum and yell at God [I do that a lot, huh?] telling Him "I don't wanna go! You're idea is stupid!!" and He tells me to obey my husband. He says something like "Well if you still think I'm out to get you, trust him. You know he wouldn't do anything to harm your family." and then I feel like a jackass for not trusting Him, again, and go on with my day.

So I guess for now, we'll soak up the good things that we have available to us here in the Metroplex and just prepare for the great migration.

Sorry if this was sort of...all over the place. Can't seem to get my mind on one track today!!