Daily Gratitude - Day 6

We live in Jay’s hometown. That’s how I’ve thought about it for so long. I am from Montana. Jay is from here. We live in Jay’s hometown. A hometown that consistently seems to make the ranks of some “best of” list. And yet, I’ve grumbled.

So many people think living here is the definition of fabulous and I constantly poop on the party (can you reverse that saying like that? It’s kind of gross) with my “yeah, but”s.  It’s too expensive. The tourists take over all the great stuff. It’s too far away from my family. There’s no Target.

When I hear people gush about how they can kayak on their lunch breaks or backcountry ski from their yurts, I think, “I am not like these people! I shouldn’t be here!” Perhaps, that feeling of “one of these things is not like the others” is what keeps me from fully embracing the D in D-town. I’m sort of embarrassed about living here and not really living here.

Even though my roots are shallow and could probably be dug out with little effort, they are forming. I’ve lived in Colorado for 10 years now and in this particular spot for 6 of them. That’s a quarter of my life. So, while Montana still claims my heart, these mountains that surround me and are my constant view feel like a welcome anchor. The sounds of the river, while not listened to from a top a paddle board or inside a raft (very often), sound familiar and necessary to me as I walk along the river trail. The restaurants are excellent. The people are kind. The Subaru drivers are so annoying with their under-the-speed-limit constraint but I’ll take their determined-to-be-fuel-efficientness over freeway congestion any day.

Today, this was my view at the turn-around spot of my walk.

Then, I saw this sight as I was walking back up our driveway.  Jay, borrowing his father’s tractor to level out some gravel laid down on the road to the barn. Daniel, in his father’s arms, living this adorable country life.

And the roots from a reluctant heart inched down into this spot of earth just little bit more.