Moving from City to Country

Every day I have the opportunity to make a choice. To embrace where I have been planted and trust my Husband and my decision to move to the country, get in my car, drive 45 min to an hour with oil truck traffic to the nearest town, or sit in my PJs, cry about my mother passing too soon, and get angry to look out and see grass and not neighbors and sidewalks. Some days I choose trust. I get in my car, get my Mom’s 60th birthday party soundtrack CD in, roll down the window and start to drive. Unfortunately since she passed I choose PJs and tears.