“I have learned that if you must leave a place that you have lived in and loved and where all your yesteryears are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way, leave it the fastest way you can. Never turn back and never believe that an hour you remember is a better hour because it is dead. Passed years seem safe ones, vanquished ones, while the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.”
― Beryl Markham, West with the Night
Someday I will tell you all about the unbelievable, difficult, ride this little family has been on since we returned from South America.
I have a lot of sorting it out in my own head and heart to do before I could possibly put it in print to share, and it’s not what I’m talking about Today.
Today I am saying goodbye to a place I have lived in and loved and where my yesteryears of babies and mountains and friendships to rival the truest friendships of the best stories of all time are buried deep into the very sinews of my heart.
And I am doing it the fastest way. Yesterday I was hired, tomorrow morning I start, so Today…
Today I leave.
Today I leave knowing, thanks in large part to South America, that no past was ever as perfect as leaving makes it seem and no future is as formidable as uncertainty colors it.
That said, my past here in Crested Butte will always be an imperfect imprint of Pure Beauty that I carry everywhere. A tattoo of ridges and rivers and aspens and snow. An echo of post office greetings and sun-warmed smiles. A peace with Winter I never imagined I’d make and a love of sky that has taken root in the very cells of my skin.
And my future is formidable, but in an exciting, energizing way. I get to teach again, and I get to teach children from families who often don’t speak English first and whose stories contain elements of finding foreign all around them. I get to be the teacher I wanted my boys to have in Ecuador. I get to live another dream. But all of that is for tomorrow.
Today is driving with Paradise Divide in my rear view mirror and the Denver skyline up ahead. While I’m learning the ropes at my new job Bo and the boys will be packing and finishing up their time in Crested Butte to join me at our next home in a couple weeks. Given how far we’ve traveled from this valley in the past, Denver seems merely down the street. And, essentially, it is. We will see our loved ones here again, and been told they will see us there as well.
This is a good-bye, yes, but only for