Today is one year since I packed up the kids and left Breckenridge heading East. I know it was one of the top five bravest days of my life because it was one of the top five scariest days of my life, but I got in the car and drove. It was before dawn on a cold and snowy morning and I had my kids, three dogs and a cat in my car and we were off. My cousin was in the U-haul and my mom was in Maggie's car with her. Our trip was delayed by a snow-covered interstate in Colorado and then by a detour around tornadoes in Missouri, but we made it to Tennessee 22 hours later. Once we got to Tennessee, I dropped the humans off at my cousin's house in Brentwood and I took the animals to my new little house in Franklin. I arrived in a new city, in a new and empty home at three in the morning and I felt as hopelessly empty and yet hopeful as that tiny house I would be calling home. My heart was broken and empty and the unknown was screaming at me, but my soul was peaceful and fill