My first year in Tucson, starting in 2009, was a terrible year. Not because of Chris. Not even because of Tucson. It was simply the year I moved away and had to learn to be an individual, when I was used to being part of a pack. Though, the move to Tucson will be a story for another blog, it is needless to say I took every opportunity to drive up to see my family.
The next weekend happened to be the Fourth of July, so OF COURSE I had to celebrate with my family. Then, two weekends after the fourth, I had started a new job so OF COURSE I had to drive up to celebrate with my family. Then my mom was planning a birthday party, and another, and another… and THEN suddenly it was the holidays. It began a tradition between her and me, for that year, of biweekly mini-celebrations as mere excuses for me to NEED to come up to see everyone. She truly pulled me through a very difficult transition, and, in baby steps, got me to spread my wings a little on my own.
This by no means was a new idea for us to celebrate frivolously. In fact, it is part of our family culture, that began with my mom and will continue through us.
Regardless, it was a reminder that even in times that seem horrible or impossible… you can always find something or someone to celebrate.