Richmond is where it started. Richmond, Virginia, that is. A different coast and a different country entirely. The Richmond days were simple yet testing, all at once. I spent many hours on Interstate 95 driving back and forth between Baltimore and Richmond in my beat up white VW Jetta that almost never started if it was raining. The three hour trip, at the time, seemed like a haul. Lots of time to think. But I was doing school, and he was doing soccer, and that required us to be in different places.

We actually had met at college, two years earlier. I offered to help him write his paper within minutes of meeting him; it’d be safe to say I was immediately head over heels. And I couldn’t believe the British accented boy reciprocated the feeling. But he did, and that first year we were inseparable and it truly was simple. I don’t think either one of us realistically thought past the present. But, as always, change occurs, and you either roll with it or you don’t.

Richmond changed us, in more ways than we even knew at the time. The experience grew each of us individually and as a couple. It wasn’t always pleasant, or glamorous, either. In fact, I’d say it was actually mostly unglamorous for the most part. But you have to start somewhere, and he stuck it out, and we stuck together.

Even still, Richmond felt miles away from home and like a temporary situation. I always assumed we’d still end up in Maryland, mainly because that’s all I really knew at the time. I definitely had no idea that his time in Richmond is what started the chain of events that would eventually land us here, in Vancouver. His second year with the Kickers was when his path crossed with the up and coming coach of the Cleveland City Stars, Martin Rennie.

They wouldn’t meet up again for another two years, but in the meantime, Matt signed a contract with the Carolina Railhawks. This was now six hours down Interstate 95. Six hours from home now, with a new set of changes and a new set of challenges. But this was round two for us, we rolled with it better than the first time around. In fact, we rolled with it so well that I found out I was pregnant mid season, much to the surprise of my parents. That was a fun conversation. But, one more change wouldn’t kill us, I guess. Little did I know the intense shock that parenthood is to the system.

While we messily maneuvered this new role and planned a wedding (we did things a bit out of order), Martin took over for the Railhawks. We enjoyed a bit of stability as Matt settled in and stayed with Carolina for four seasons. That doesn’t mean we didn’t move though–every six months or so, when the outdoor season concluded, we’d pack up our life in a moving van and head North for indoor season in Baltimore. As much as I despised moving, especially with a baby in tow now, we were at least motivated by being close to family again.

Our life felt a bit like a game of ping pong, back and forth and back again. Non-stop motion, never really feeling settled. We got into a rhythm of sorts, a rhythm of movement essentially. There were many times I just wanted to call it quits and pick somewhere, most likely Maryland, and settle down. But kick ups supported our now two kids, so we kept following where the kicks ups earned paychecks.

About a year ago now, Matt signed with your Vancouver Whitecaps, meaning, to me, at least a full year in one place. We certainly weren’t even in the vicinity of interstate 95 anymore, but Vancouver symbolized a fresh start to me. It would be a place where I could make friends because I wouldn’t feel it pointless knowing I’d be leaving them in a matter of months. It would be a place I could send our daughter to preschool because she’d be able to see the full year through. It would be a home, not just a temporary living space.

Little did I know it at the time, but starting with Richmond, and all the little and not so little changes along the way, prepared me for this one huge change. As I’ve gone from a college student waitress to a stay at home mommy and soccer wifey, I’ve slowly morphed into someone I thought I could never be. Someone somewhat comfortable with change. I say somewhat because change still scares me, but I know now to at least give it a chance.

We’re getting to that time of year where I feel like I should be emptying bookcases and packing boxes in the midst of wiping noses and reading bedtime stories. I never really knew how dependent I had become on that rhythm of movement. But instead, we’ll get up in the morning and walk to pre-school. We’ll stomp in the rain puddles when we can’t be cooped up inside any longer. Maybe we’ll even paint the walls. The same always holds true, though–we don’t know how many Vancouver days we have ahead of us. We hope more rather than less, but if the rhythm of movement sweeps us back up again, we know now that it ebbs and flows and evens itself out.

Our Richmond days may be long gone, but not forgotten. They may have been unsure and trying, but they were necessary–necessary to making our Vancouver days a reality, a reality that we now love.

*Orignal post for The Province can be seen here.