10 months ago, we came to stay.

we thought we knew the who, what, why, when, where, and how of our Big Move.

Turns out, we only knew the wherehere.
And the only who we could have been sure of was each other.

We’re still here. Some people who know us seem surprised by that. In fact, some people who live here thought we left, and some who live “back home” thought we’d return. But we haven’t. We’re here.

In ten months, we have fallen in love with the beach, new friends, our church, our street, the weather, some of the food, and the teeny-little accents our girls have on certain words.

In ten months, I have been annoyed to my limit by the gas station cashiers, the bank, the local news, and most of all, the “delis,” (seriously. Why no ‘pick a number’ system? Why no Krakus ham? Why no moving any faster than a half-dead turtle? Why? WHY?) but in the grand scheme, that’s not too bad.

In ten months, we have learned things we didn’t expect, survived things for which we were not prepared, dealt with some of the biggest disappointments, struggles, and anxiety of our lives, questioned ourselves at least 10 thousand times, and decided to stay.

We will continue to stroll, crawl, climb through the sand and sometimes the dunes, but we know we’re here because we are meant to be. My heart – well, it still exists mainly in two places, and that’s ok. At least I have a cool name for it.