The summer after my second year of University, I spent ten weeks driving through Western Canada.  Myself, two other girls, and three guys met up in Vancouver, piled into two vehicles and toured most of B.C., Alberta and parts of Saskatchewan.  Looking back, I didn’t necessarily want to go but, at the same time, I didn’t really have a reason not to go.  The lease on the room I had been renting had just ended…I didn’t have a summer job in Ottawa lined up…and while I had just met an amazing guy – who I would later fall crazy in love with – a summer apart didn’t seem like the end of the world.  And so I went…and practically cried the entire time I was gone!!

Despite the gorgeous scenery, despite the thrill of being on the ultimate road trip, and despite being at the perfect time in my life to be on such an adventure…I’ve never felt more home sick in my entire life as I did that summer.  The irony of it all was that I didn’t even really have a home at the time; All of my belongings were in storage and I didn’t have a placed to rent for September when I planned on coming back.  I had no fixed address.  I was – essentially – homeless.  And yet, the entire time that I was gone…roaming among the mountains…I was home sick.

Throughout this time, my new boyfriend and I had been keeping in touch a lot through email and regular phone calls.  Six weeks into my trip, I spent every last penny I had earned that summer for a last minute, round trip ticket back to Ottawa to visit him for a few days.  I just couldn’t bear to be away any longer and while I seriously considered making it a one-way ticket, I ultimately concluded that the brief visit would hold me over for the final month to come.

The night that my flight arrived in Ottawa was an especially gorgeous summer evening.  As we descended into the capital region, I looked out my tiny little window and noticed fireworks below.  I had never seen them from above before and that sight became just one of many things that seemed completely foreign to me.  We spent the next four days not doing much of anything other than talking, drinking beer, and listening to the newest Tea Party album over and over again.  It actually ended up raining most of the time that I was in Ottawa but on my last evening, the skies cleared up and the sun finally came out.  The two of us headed out to a park near his new apartment and found ourselves spending hours sitting on some rocks along the Ottawa River.  I realized at that time that even though I didn’t really know this guy very well yet, he was somehow what kept me holding on.  I didn’t have much of my own at that time and it had been an emotional intense summer…but this guy had kept me grounded…kept me tied to something.  We would end up spending the next two years together and though it would be filled with ups and downs…it still mattered.  Had you asked me at the time, I probably would have told you that it was all that mattered.

I went back to that park this morning for the first time in thirteen years.  Hudson and I spent a couple of hours scoping out sites for this weekend’s wedding and this particular park was on the bride’s list of potential locations.  I didn’t even really recognize it at first until Hudson and I walked – hand in hand – up towards the water and found ourselves standing on the very same rocks.  It felt strange looking out at the river and knowing how different a person I was now.  How different my life is now.  How different the great loves of my life are now.

I had a lot that I wanted to blog about last week.  I had a lot on my mind and a lot that I wanted to share.  Then, by the end of the day on Monday, I found myself – quite literally – bed ridden with a horrible cold.  Two days later, Steve joined me in my viral misery and we collectively spent the entire week taking turns entertaining Hudson while the other one tried to sleep and get better.  To say that we’ve seen better days is a bit of an understatement!  Amazingly enough though {thank you God!}…Hudson never did end up catching whatever we had!  Instead, he patiently waited out his two sick parents with lots of movies and the cutest disposition a little boy could ever have!

And then we’re back at Monday and all I can think about was this time last week and this time thirteen years ago.  This time last week was a rough time…this time thirteen years ago was a rough time.  This time last week, my body was hurting and suffering…this time thirteen years ago, my soul was hurting and suffering.  And yet, here we are…back at Monday and in both instances, the world looks a lot different.  And I’m eternally grateful for that…comforted by that…and made hopeful by that.

But here’s the thing…those times still matter.  This time last week and this time thirteen years ago…they matter.  They matter because it’s part of life; the sickness that keeps us cooped up in bed or the boy that keeps us tethered to the world.  They matter.  Without them, we wouldn’t notice the healthy days quite as much or the little hand holding on to yours.  They matter because they are a part of us.  They don’t define us or conclude us…but they are woven into us…reminding us that the past is real.

And I like remembering the past sometimes.  I like remembering that I’ve endured it and further more, overcome it.

I especially like remembering it with this little guy by my side…