Today I officially traded in mountains for cornfields.  Dad and I saw Greensboro one final time while my belongings still inhabited the city.  We walked through the woods by Lake Brandt, marveled at the kudzu, ate Stamey's BBQ, Maxie B's cupcakes, Yoforio's organic yogurt at the Grand Opening, greeted my old school, stood amazed at the tiny rosebush that now was so full and large, enjoyed an evening with friends, walked downtown, shopped at Just Be with the bubble machine, stopped in the ecletic Green Bean, browsed the Farmer's Market to find scrumptious fresh figs, ripe goat cheese, quiches, empanadas and blueberries.  It was a hello mixed with a goodbye. It was my dad's hello and my goodbye.  Dad saw a part of my life, my old life, my old self that he never had the opportunity to see or know.  And, in his hello was my goodbye.  As I introduced him to my old city I was slowly saying goodbye.  Saying it was nice knowing you, I miss you, I wish I had appreciated my days here more and I  wondered if I'd ever have the kind of life I had there again. As our hello and goodbye passed it was apparent the chapter in Greensboro was closing.  My goodbye was pleasant and gradual.  I didn't realize I was saying goodbye until it was over.


I didn't realize it was over until I pulled out of my new storage unit in Ohio and was greeted by one of the most amazing sunsets I had ever beheld.  The center of the sun glowed in the color of deep pink, with soft shades of blue and pink dancing around it.  It looked like an ocean sunset.  As I looked at the sunset in the middle of my being I heard a faint whisper "Welcome, be here now, I'll take care of you."  The whisper was proof that it was over.  The whisper told me that it was time to start and embrace a new chapter.  A chapter unexpected but needed, a chapter of new beginnings and new daydreams.  Today I said goodbye and hello.  Hello, Ohio.  I think I'll stay for awhile.