Yesterday evening I dropped Rob off at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport to catch a flight to Charlotte because today is his first day on the job at his new project. On my quick drive home, I was sort of overwhelmed with a mix of pride and nostalgia.
I thought about how smart and successful that husband of mine is, and how proud I am of him every day. And then I thought about those first few months of long(er) distance, when we went from Roanoke to DC every weekend to Virginia to Minnesota once or twice a month. From being within driving distance to booking a flight and requesting a day off from work. There were restaurants and coffee shops we visited in parts of town that we didn't recognize, and then I moved and less than a year later they became places in our favorite neighborhoods, where the bartender wonders where we've been if we skip a Saturday lunch one week. There are still so many new things to discover here, but we have managed to find a place to belong.
We have come a long way since that weekend in January of last year when Rob went to Minneapolis to look at apartments. And yet last night, alone in our home, I started to feel a little sad. I am determined to make the most over these days that I have to myself--going to bed early, spending time with friends, and watching as much Gossip Girl as humanly possible. Transitions often throw me for a loop, but this one is so exciting, and I don't want to wish it away yet, even if I have to muddle through some melancholy to get there.
A new city, new friends (and old friends!), a new apartment, new adventures. I am so excited to get to Charlotte, but I will forever be thankful that we took a chance on Minneapolis.