As I cut the cord of home
I kiss my mother’s mother
Look to the horizon

-Alanis Morissette

It’s 6:50 am  on a Saturday morning and I’m sitting in a cozy booth in a local café. My family has been patrons of this establishment for as long as it’s been open; I’ve been raised in a small town. Many of the regulars are people who’ve been having their breakfasts out with my parents for longer than I’ve been alive and occasionally, when they recognize me, or I’m dining with my parents, they’ll stop and treat me to stories of my siblings and I when we were all tiny and they’d see us out with our mom and dad  for breakfast on Saturdays.

Georgetown never felt that small to me, but moments like this one,  feeling so familiar and at home, that I think about my move to Dallas and feel a flutter in my stomach. I realize that I really am a small town girl and Dallas is big.

As if on cue, I watch my parents enter the café and make their way to a table. It’s only by chance or divine coordination that we’re all here at the same time. I slipped in for breakfast and the best coffee in town before I go into work at 8. Mom and Dad have errands to run and decided to stop and eat first. Before I even have a chance to get over to them, they’re already being greeted by a couple they know for I don’t know where.

I’m by far the youngest person in the place, which is something I relish, (not just because I’m having issue with getting older at the moment), there’s just something peaceful and comforting with being in the company of older people; I love people watching. I like seeing the waitress greet people by name, I like seeing the easy way couples who’ve been together forever interact with each other, I like seeing the older men at the counter drinking their coffee and reading their news papers. This is something I’ll miss.

I’m sure there are similar places in Dallas, but they’ll most likely have Dallas’ big feel to them, they wont hold that small town charm, there wont be the cozy knowing that somewhere in there is probably someone who knows me or my family. In Dallas, for the first time in my life, I’ll be a real stranger… it’s scary and exciting at the same time.

It’s 10:45 on Sunday morning and I’m sitting in the dimly lit “living room” of my church. I don’t know everyone, but it feels like I do and has from the very first moment I set foot inside this building. This place is full of love and it gives me that same familiar feeling sitting in the café yesterday morning did.

I’m looking around at the people here, people of all different shapes and sizes, people truly from all different walks of life. The thing that stands out the most to me is, no one looks lonely here. In every other church I’ve been to you could always spot the lonely people. Most of the time they sat alone, spoke to no one, they would go completely unnoticed by the people around them. Sometimes it wasn’t that obvious… sometimes it was just the look on the face and you could tell they were alone in the crowd. Sometimes I was one of them… but you don’t find those people here. Even the ones who sit alone don’t look lonely, somehow they still seem apart of everything that’s going on around them, and it amazes me and fills my heart with hope.

The music starts and the church band begins a cover of Johnny Cash’s “God’s Gonna Cut You Down”, accompanied by stomping and smashing metal trash can lids. In spite of its ominous name, the song is inspiring and somehow fills me with the understanding that I’m loved by God. It makes me feel overwhelmingly proud of the people around me and there’s a part of me that also feels terrified that I wont find this, this kind of family, in Dallas.

It’s 8:59 am on Tuesday morning and I’m sitting in my Starbucks. It’s the one closest to my work and has a drive-through. I’m barely aware of the people around me, which is strange for me because I’m easily distracted, but the hum of people talking, of coffee grinders grinding, of steamers steaming, is all a comforting background noise for me while I write this blog post and face some of the things that I’m most afraid of right now.

I’ve done my best recently not to focus too much on the things that I’ll be without, and just keep moving forward, but I think at some point you have to pause and let it sink in a little. Even if that means going through days that all you want to do is cry.

To some this might not seem like that big of a deal, but it’s a huge step for me… and there are moments when I feel scared stiff. I can move ahead because I know it’s the right thing for my life now, but it’s changing everything and somehow I feel like if I just take a moment to acknowledge that, it will make it more manageable.

The peace must be settling in, and the panic must be passing, because all of a sudden I’m finding myself listening to the people at the table next to me talk, I can’t really figure out what their relationship to each other is because I came into the conversation too late, but I’m guessing they are professionally connected and not personally.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited for what the future holds, I’m excited to be getting out there and seeing what I can do on my ownbut I’m leaving home, and that’s a realization that at least deserves a blog entry =).