So much has happened in the month since I last posted!
The weekend of August 12th, I attended the third annual Camp Widow in San Diego and again, had a fabulous time. It was held at the beautiful Marriott Marquis and Marina, and I was reunited with some of the wonderful friends I made from the first one in 2009, and made even more. I decided not to volunteer this time, and use that weekend for a true vacation. My sister-in-law and her new husband who also live in San Diego kept Jacob and Sydney for the weekend (thank you so much, Brandi and Scott!!). They hung out with their awesome cousins Heather and Trevor, visited with Uncle Greg, got buried in the sand at the beach, climbed on real trains, experienced canoeing for the first time, went for ice cream, attended a festival where they played tug-of-war and other fun games, got body paint, jumped in bounce houses, and in their down time, Sydney played dress up and Jacob's very loose top front tooth came out!
Not long after we returned from San Diego, we went to Buffalo for the second time since our move to California. Getting there was an adventure in itself... We flew from LA to JFK, and were supposed to take a connecting flight from JFK to Buffalo. All flights into Buffalo, Rochester, and the surrounding areas were cancelled due to storms, and there were no flights available until the next day. I ended up driving from JFK to Buffalo. That's the WAY abbreviated version, but someone please remind me to write the full one - it's a cool story!
This trip was much different than the last... Last year when I went back, I didn't really even want to be there. I was scared to death of going back, and while I was there, I wasn't really "there." This time, I could not wait to go back.
When I moved to California, I couldn't get away fast enough. I needed to be far away from everything- the house, the town, the people, the places we went to.... everything. I couldn't continue living the life that Matt and I had together without him there. Since my life had changed so drastically with losing Matt, EVERYTHING needed to change. It might not work for everyone, but it was the best thing I could have done for myself. I didn't escape the pain of his loss, and it didn't make me miss him less, but it made going about the daily motions more bearable, and allowed the kids and I to have new experiences that we never would have had otherwise being on the opposite coast. The sunshine and warmth was healing, I made wonderful new friends, and was closer in proximity to my brother and Matt's immediate family. Up until maybe six months ago, I didn't even have the capacity yet to miss anyone but Matt, so it was easy to leave.
About a month or so before I went to Buffalo for this most recent trip, I got the crazy idea that I wanted to move back. I don't even know where it came from, but it hit me like a brick and has been an overwhelming pull that I haven't been able to ignore. When it first hit me, I really wondered why I was torturing myself with the thought. I found myself agonizing over the decision. I obsessed over the pros and cons and drove myself completely nuts. At first it was pretty 50/50, but the more I thought about it and was as objective as I could be, it became very clear.