Following your heart

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I am one of those persons who has lived in a number of different places. In fact as I was growing up I don't think we spent more than a year in any one place. Often I was asked if my father was in the military as that would explain our frequent moves but my family didn't have that excuse. On the one hand, looking back, I think our frequent moves stopped me from making any lasting friendships. After the first few heart wrenching separations I learned not to invest too much of myself in any relationship. I think I miss having any close friends. If I must look to the advantages of this life style I would have to say that it taught me how to adapt. Every year I had a new school and new people to get used to. I soon learned that everyone was different and just because something was done one way in my old school didn't mean it would be that way in my new one. No matter where we moved to I knew it would only be for a short period of time so if I didn't like the area I wouldn't worry about it because I knew we would be moving inside a year. When I was fourteen we moved to north Florida and it was clear to me from the beginning that I didn't like that area. There were no hills, the roads were all in a straight line and the air was oppressive, and the school was about two years behind my abilities. But I figured, oh well, this too shall pass. Unfortunately, I was mistaken. For the first time in my life we stayed put. I did three years in that high school feeling like an alien. By the time I had gotten old enough to go on my own I had gotten in a rut. Eventually I met a man, and married him, who also liked to travel some. We did relocate to several different areas during our life together, but because we both had family in the north Florida, south Georgia area we kept coming back, and when he became paralyzed from the neck down I settled there to be near both out families. So once again I was stuck, and this time for over twenty years. I never was comfortable in that area although I couldn't put my finger on just why. After my husband died in 2004 I just stayed on there trying to rebuild my life after what seemed like a life of care giving. Eventually, I realized I had to get out of there. I had to go somewhere, anywhere, because the memories were too painful. My daughter had been after me to come up here with her and finally I gave in and I am glad I did. Now I know where my heart belongs and I am content. As I drive over, around and among the mountains that surround this small valley I am amazed at the beauty I see. My heart soars with the clouds in the sky and rejoices with the colors of the trees. Recently I tried to take some pictures of the leaves turning colors. I think a few of them turned out rather well. What do you think of the one attached here?