Life's Little Ironies

This morning I’ve left to start a life in Tampa. It’s an odd feeling. This is a day I thought would always be in the distance. Like a child looking toward Christmas, I looked at this day as one of great joy, excitement, and anticipation. And, while it has held all those things for me, it has also held sorrow, parting, tearful good-byes. Yes, good-byes are never easy. They never have been for me. And yet, of all my brothers, I have been the one that has had to do it the most often. Leave my “home” (wherever that be) and set roots only to uproot in 6 months and move elsewhere. It’s been a cyclical life of hello and good-byes. For the first time in three years, I will be settling somewhere; not just anywhere—where my love is.

A couple nights ago, I noticed a one of life’s little coincidental symbols. When I moved to Phoenix, the foot of the bed (thus my feet) was pointed do-North—towards Seattle. As my life of this past year has changed in getting to know April, falling in love, and making the decision to move to be close to her and pursue my degree, my bedroom (rearranged by mom while I was away on a visit to Tampa) had ironically, and unintentionally, changed in accordance with my plans; the foot of my bed was no longer pointed towards Seattle, but Tampa Bay. Ah, life’s little ironies.

Cheers all.