When we gaze out the kitchen windows to the humongous yard out back, or watch the sunset on the mountains almost every day from our living room window, or gaze up at the stars from the skylight above our bed, I turn to Michelle, or she to me, and we say, “I love it here. I’m so thankful.”
It’s good timing that today is Canadian Thanksgiving – although we didn’t need much spurring to be thankful. Michelle and I could have listed dozens of things to be thankful for. I’m amazed that I can take Joshua for a walk in his stroller, and within twenty minutes I’m on a lovely dirt road on the mountain overlooking the valley, with a gorgeous view and a trail that goes for miles and miles. I never could have done that in the big city.
I’m amazed that we now live in a town where we stop by the gourmet pizza restaurant for lunch only to discover that we know people at six of the eight tables there, well enough to give them hugs. And, in fact, my younger brother’s girlfriend also shows up to pick up a pizza and sits with us for ten minutes as she waits for it. Now that’s a small town.
I’m amazed that some of the older members at the church we’ve started to attend have already volunteered to help us in whatever ways possible – moving our stuff on the big moving day, or even holding our colicky son so Michelle can get things settled. It’s unbelievable to me that people have reached out to help us in such a short time.
I’m happy that Michelle and I have both felt this deep sense of thankfulness, because Heaven knows we’re still quite tired. Last night we decided to watch a movie together, now that we finally unpacked the tv and I bought a second-hand sound system off Craigslist to replace the one that got destroyed in the move. About fifteen minutes in, The Pukenator started to cry so Michelle went upstairs to console him. I paused the movie to wait for her to come back down.
I woke up at 3:30am in a daze. Where was I? Why was I sleeping on the couch? In my clothing? What was going on? My mind struggled to land on solid ground as I put the pieces together – Michelle must have fallen asleep with Joshua, and I must have done the same waiting for her. I peeled myself off the couch, uncluttered the living room, and slithered into bed.
Yes, we’re pooped at the end of each day, but the days are good. Joshua seems to be happier every day. Celia loves her daycare. The air is crisp, and the skies are blue – a big change from rainy Vancouver. I still don’t know exactly how we’ll make it financially, or how long it’s going to take for me to find a friend who I want to hang out with a scotch and talk about life’s most significant details. This is true. But then, these things will come in time.
For now, it’s probably safe to say, I think we’re going to be all right.