It is no secret that time flies more quickly with each passing year, and yet somehow it never ceases to amaze me.
We are now approaching our one year anniversary of The Move. I decided to take a peak into the archives of Getrealmama and read through some of my September 2009 posts. They touched me. It was some of my best writing, perhaps because the emotions were so very raw. As I browsed through everything, I experienced conflicting emotions. On the one hand, the events of those days seem like a lifetime ago. Everything was so different. My routines, my friends, my home, my work even the stage of my life. I still had an "infant" after all. And yet in some ways it feels like no time has past. I can still feel the hard stony front steps where I sat and typed up a post about Autumn in Colorado, just one day before we departed. I can taste the sugary strawberry cake that I ate with my friend Shannon at The Market, on our last "Girls Night out". The fierce tears that I shed as I walked through our empty home for the last time, still come at times in a gentler form.
So much life has passed in the year that I have been away. My nephew Kristoff was born. Evan learned to walk and to talk, and celebrated his second birthday. I've started to focus on my career again. Old friends have faded away.
I don't know what life would be like if we packed up our belongings and headed back to Denver today. Would we pick up where we left off? I'd like to think so.
I am adjusting, don't get me wrong. But yet, I still feel like a tourist, wide eyed and out of place, gazing into the lives of the locals.
It scares me how time speeds me away from what was. A year has passed. And before I know it, it will be two, and then perhaps three or four. At some point I suppose memories will become fuzzy. Zachary will forget that he ever had his own room, a friend named Finn, and a neighborhood where barbeque's and parties were common.
Who knows where life will take us over the course of the next year. All I can say for certain is that September 2011 will come soon enough, turning today to mere recollection.