To most people, the month of February signifies a sign of hope. A sign that offers us a beacon of light while all the holiday craziness dies down and the bleak, frosted weather relentlessly storm clouds above us, dropping nothing but mounds of ice and snow and all things cold. February signifies that soft flicker of light giving off the warmest glow, because even as the snow falls around us, something inside of us glimmers and melts. Our hearts awaken with affection.
February marks that charming smell of freshly blooming roses in the air, the sweet taste of cherry filling oozing from that delicate chocolate candy when it touches your tongue, that fuzzy feeling building in your gut while reading cards filled with loving words and thoughts, that touch of a hug, the expression of gifts as tokens of intimate feelings with someone special. Yes, people. I’m talking about Valentine’s Day. Because who doesn’t like to feel loved once in a while?
But for me, for the past three years, February doesn’t give off that permanent glow, that warmth, that feel-good mentality. For me, February marks the end. The end of my time with the one person I love for the next nine months.
And yet, among the harsh reality I face as I watch January fade into the sunset, there has been little flickers of light every once in a while. Last February we were engaged. And even though the two of us were sitting on top of the world that day, my joyful reality was ripped away from me two days later when he got that phone call that he was to be shipped out to spring training two days later. Hours later, my reality turned into a daydream until I saw him three months later for a very short weekend.
Ah, yes. the month of February signifies the pre-start of baseball season! And for this spring training season, I decided to go with my fiance to beautiful Scottsdale, Arizona.
Today marks day two of our two month adventure. We finally arrived at our destination late Monday night after a ten-hour travel day, including a two-hour ride to the airport, a one-hour delay to de-ice the plane, a six-hour flight filled with an overly obnoxious plane engine drone, and another one-hour span for luggage collection, rental car services, stopping at an in the middle of nowhere McDonald’s for a quick midnight dinner and driving to our apartment that, to our surprise and discovery, greeted us with dirt everywhere, half-eaten food left over in the fridge from whomever lived there before, no cable and a sustained injury to my foot after stepping on an earring and having it go straight up and into my flesh.
So naturally, day one meant throwing out the undesirables, scrubbing down the entire place from start to finish, purchasing a healthier variety of food and throwing out any other runaway earrings left on the floor. And still there was time left over to scope out and familiarize ourselves with the area.
Our apartment complex is located in downtown Scottsdale, one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. It’s a hop, skip and a jump away from Old Town Scottsdale, home to some of the coolest restaurants where I’ve had the pleasure of dining in the past, a ton of historical background and information, eclectic shopping and family events and activities. It’s also located on the Continental Golf Course.
For the next two months, I will be exploring, discovering, writing and sharing my journey of my temporary life here, in Arizona, and everything that comes along with it, including my struggles to acclimate myself with this lifestyle and being away from my family and home, my fulfillments of being with the one I love and having the chance to discover new ways of living together and growing as a soon-to-be married couple (a.k.a. this guy below) and my path to self discovery as I figure out where this road will take me. I invite and ask all of you reading to join me on this journey and walk with me down this new path together.