I woke up easily even though the night's sleep was rough, my body slightly on edge with my radar up to hear Mateo's cry. He had cried out multiple times in the night, he was unusually restless and when I picked him up to comfort him I noticed his check was damp from tears and his body let out a different cry than I was used to hearing. I wondered if this precious brave boy was trying to process the many many hugs, high fives and goodbyes that were offered to him that day. The fourth grade boys who have been like big brothers to him had one by one picked him up and put him back down with words of missing and departing. As an adult it was a very dear leaving sight, but who knows what his nearly three year old mind and body were feeling through it all. And now he was attempting sleep in a pack n play in another new location surrounded by others carrying heightened emotions. Sleep often seems hard to come by when you are most desperate for it.

After quickly downing a cup of coffee I laced up my tennis shoes for the final time on that coast. I saw the early morning light streaming through the windows and felt glad to not close out this season with a run in the rain (although that would make sense). I had only hours left before we would be boarding a flight to return to the East Coast and all I knew how to do was run what had become a pretty sacred loop for me. As the sound of crunching gravel began and my lungs started to find its breath, I thought about my first few runs around the lake and the joy I felt that we got to move to close to this beautiful water and trail. Then I thought about some of the funny sights I had encountered while looping including a woman walking her pet turtle on a leash, a man rollerblading in his underwear only, unicycles and dogsled practice, cats in strollers and everything in between. My mind then wondered to the times I ran when I thought my heart might break and the way the faces and the water and the Spirit met me to give me strength for that day. Running became space for me to be and to care for myself. I remember when we faced the crushing and surprising unemployment and my adrenaline was high as anxiety coursed through my body and I ran so fast. Then there were months when I would find myself crying as I circled the lake holding all the images of caring for my mother and then letting her go. And then the season came where I had to reintroduce running with a stroller as we welcomed Mateo to our family, and I prayed like heck he wouldn't scream the whole loop and I showed him every dog and duck I could spot.

As I ran that final loop for this season of life, I felt surrounded by so many memories that mirrored the years we had journeyed in seattle - full, complex, beautiful, heartbreaking, stretching.... rising. And as terrifying as it all felt at time, I hope the rising continues as the paths change.