The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

- Robert Frost

the 1 less traveled by

A move to Nicaragua

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Daily Archives: January 19, 2015


Sad De-party-tures – Azalea’s 3rd & Our Last Party

This day was such a blast, our home filled up with friends & love so thick it was palatable.  I found myself continuously getting caught up in the moment. Moments that were so sweet and so spontaneous that I couldn’t help but feel the intense smile spread across my face and the glow radiate out of me. But on this day, this smile was proceeded by an uncontrollable sting, like a cancor soar you forgot about. Even as my neighbors entered our house with big hugs and bigger smiles I could hear a voice whisper, “You’re leaving soon.” As I watched a friend mimic my directions of where to put the gifts, “You’re leaving soon.” Watching the God Mother of my kids know just where our wine key is kept, or my husband’s best friend’s wife fill my wine glass & make a new batch of margaritas, “You’re leaving soon.” My mother-in-law’s friends we haven’t seen since our wedding coming in baring gifts, hugs, and a sincere heartfelt smiles. My dad, ever the obedient guest, cutting taco meat, refilling chips, rice, & beans, “You’re leaving soon.” Watching the “littles” play in the baby area I set up – Avery already big enough to go down the slide, but I’ll probably miss her first steps. Is it possible I’ll miss Ben’s first week of walking too? I looked across the party and a table was full of the only nanny Azalea has ever known, her husband, daughter, baby son, and even her parents. Love, love everywhere. You could have painted the house with it, thick like glue…stuck to everything, every plate, fork, laugh, every step thick with love. A twinkle in every guest’s eye, like a tear might be forming below the surface.

The kids put on a singing show and my parents, teary-eyed had front row. I know what they were thinking because its the same recording that was playing in my head…”Soak it in, they are about to leave, no more moments like these for two years.” I was seated across the yard at a table with the neighbors and nursing their grandson, the guilt and love equally enveloping me.

Once in bed, I could still hear the muted sounds of my husband & a neighbor out in our bar, The Drunken Chicken.  Still laughing. Are we really leaving all of this? Two years…will it really only be two years?  Where will life take us?