As I looked out across the bluish-green waterway that separated me from a place I once called home, I swear I could see her.
Stoic and strong and so deep in thought—her gaze passed right through me and out into the Gulf.
Only a moment ago I was her.
Now, she is me.
My former building, with its breathtaking waterfront views, looked just as I remembered it— beautiful then, beautiful still—unaffected by the passage of time.
Venturing closer, my fear falling away, I stood at the entrance on the red brick road that long ago lead me to my door and this temporary home.
Something caught my eye as I stood taking it all in—the name of my building emblazoned on a parkway sign. Courageous it read, and I wondered aloud,
“Did I know that then?”
It escapes me now, but how very apropos considering all the twists and turns my life would take as I journeyed away from this place.
