Rocky Mountain High

Two of the best years of my life were spent in Colorado. I loved it there. LOVED it. There are many reasons for my love for Fort Collins and Colorado. The mountains alone could cause me to write post after post of gushing sentiments. But Colorado is where Sparky and I became a family. Where he realized his desire to be a father, and where our dreams were inevitably shattered. And when things got hard, we ran. We ran back "home". And we've regretted it ever since.

We tried. We really did try to make "home" our home. But it's not. Minnesota is toxic for us. Not because it isn't beautiful, not because there isn't opportunity, or medical care, um, we do have the Mayo clinic people. Kings and Queens have been treated there. But it's just not right. And how do you explain this to your family, your friends that have made their homes here? You just don't. Because sometimes you just can't explain it all.

Yesterday I heard from my good friend Kristin. Long distance and families, and lives, and schedules have made it difficult to keep in touch as much as we'd like. But I still miss her. Everyday. It's been five years since we drove out of Colorado and I'm afraid to go back. Why? Because I know if I do, I will NEVER come back here. I miss Horsetooth Reservoir and the park we used to hike nearly daily there, I miss our old neighborhood where we'd take our 9 p.m. walk every single night, I miss my job. I had the BEST job there. And I loved it. I miss my independence, my freedom, the healthy, busy lifestyle. I miss golf on Christmas Eve and renting a limo with friends to view the Christmas lights. I miss our friends, the opportunity, the SUN, camping up Poudre canyon, Red Feather Lakes, our drives to tip top of the mountains. I miss the elk, and Estes and...see what I mean? I miss it all!

In my opinion, John Denver was a genius. I miss my Rocky Mountain High...