Hello All!

I am back in Denver…for a time.

Denver is home. There are people I love here and beauty to be found all the time. But, I know I have to leave, at least for awhile.

I don’t know why.

All of my life I have gotten gut feelings and deep convictions about things I really needed to do…things I HAD to do, if at all possible. I think it’s God guiding me, if I choose to listen.

When I started the non-profit, Street’s Hope, for women coming out of prostitution…I knew I had to do it. I resisted and resisted and argued with God about it, but still it happened. Traveling for a year was a thing like that. Starting my new business now, (I will tell you about this later) is another one of those things,

and so is leaving this home.

I’m selling everything. The first chair sold on Craig’s list today.

A young couple came to get it. She works as a lab tec at the hospital and he is an a astrophysicist. Together they wrestled the leather chair out the door and into their car and when the chair drove away with them I felt as if I was saying goodbye to something important…something seriously important and it grieved me. But, it wasn’t the chair I was grieving really, it was all the life that has happened in this house and wanting it to come back, and knowing it will not, at least not in the way I miss.

We moved to urban Denver 14 years ago when Jackson was six. I don’t know why I pick Jackson to tell the age of, except maybe it’s because he was the kid who had the hardest time with the move. We came from Mississippi – a place of fields and forest and creeks to play in. Our neighborhood was so safe that Jackson and his pack of buddies had free run of it. But all the friends and all the freedom were stripped away in Denver, being replaced by a house with no yard, a neighborhood with no kids, and playing outside came only with adult supervision. That’s pretty hard on a little kid. I would find him curled up in his bed at night crying himself to sleep. Then I would lay down beside him and sing a Dan Fogelberg song that starts like this…

It’s Maine…
And it’s Autumn
The birches have just begun turning
It’s life and it’s dying
The lobstermen’s boats come returning
With the catch of the day in their holds
and the young boys cold and complaining
The fog meets the beaches and out on
the Reach it is raining —

The song was hauntingly real, earthly beautiful and we made it our comfort lullaby. It soothed us both because I was hurting too.

In the end though, it all worked out.

My kids grew up to be amazing people and part of that was being raised in Denver. I became different as well.

Now everyone is gone. The house echos with memories of young children growing up and exciting adventures like first days of school and learning how to drive, of fights and fun, of music, laughter, long discussions, friends….

and I’m sitting here alone with one chair missing and thinking… “It’s not too late. Only one chair is gone. Only one chair. Everything else can stay the same.”

But it can’t stay the same, because it never ever does, and if we don’t change with life, it leaves us behind, where the memories are, but no life is moving forward.

 I hate leaving.

My Son Jesse just got a new job selling BMW’s. He is flying to Denver this weekend to help me with the house.

Jared is living in Thailand beginning his journalistic career

Jackson is traveling in Guatemala for the summer and and just this moment messaged me to pray for his American friends who had a car wreck today and ended up in jail…

And my daughter, Amy Caroline, took a year off from school to work, save money and travel with me. She picked India as our destination and I am happy to go back.

We leave September 15th. Hopefully, by then, my house will be sold, my new business launched and I will be living life continued.

Before then though, I have a lot of stories to catch up on here. I haven’t blogged lately because, when I came home for Christmas, everyone had read my blogs and didn’t ask any questions! So this time, I waited to TELL tell the stories, face to face, which is a very satisfying and fun experience.

Now that I have told some people some stories, I’m ready to catch up on the writing of them. I’ll tell how I finally learned to ride a scooter, got bitten by a dog with rabies and almost died of poison ivy that wasn’t really poison ivy. I’ll tell how I evaded a South African stalker, became like a sponge on the Mekong River and share rules for avoiding unsafe passions in India.

Thank you for reading what I write. I love you for it.

 Hugs to you all.

 LeAnne