People ask us that a lot, although I am not sure why it is such a strange thing, that we picked up from Maryland and headed west in early 1994. So many have done the same – and I don’t mean in a Oregon Trail kind of way. Over the last twenty years, there has been a massive influx into Colorado, from all over… simply because it’s a great place to live.
Why did we move?
When Bryan and I met in September 1992, we both knew we didn’t want to stay in Maryland forever. We both worked at the same company, that perfect one for recent college grads. We both worked a bunch of hours and then got a bunch of time off when things got slow. We took that time to drive around the country together and decide where we wanted to be.
Since I went to college in north Florida, I was pushing for the south. Possibly Atlanta. Bryan was not a fan. The snowboarder wanted higher and further west. We arrived in Denver and knew. Within six hours, we knew. Within six months, we moved.
Denver has changed a ton over the past two decades, but even then it was the right mix for us. Small city, friendly people. Great weather, lots of fun stuff to do. Mellow but not lazy.
Saying goodbye to Maryland was not really sad at the time, except for family and friends. We had a New Year’s Eve party at my future inlaw’s (we didn’t get married until 1996) that was filled with alcohol and Bryan being thrown into the snow by high school friends (multiple times).
The only other complication: Bryan’s very pregnant sister was due any minute. I remember being so tripped out that I was about to become an aunt by proxy, not to mention the planner in me was zig-zagging around what to do if the baby did come. Go, or wait? What was the right thing to do? How do we adjust the domino effect of everything we had set up 1,500 miles away? We finally agreed that if she was in labor when we were meant to leave, we would stay. She wasn’t. We left.
Our nephew was born twenty years ago today, January 7th: the day we arrived in Denver.
The trek cross country is filled with stories. A blizzard, a death (of our fish), the anger of truckers, and us parked outside Denver until we figured out where we were living since we rented the place sight unseen. The whole saga was told in hilarious fashion by my father-in-law at our wedding reception, which makes it even more special since he is not with us anymore.
Twenty years is a long time, and brimming with memories. Denver is home to us, probably more so than had we grown up here. We chose it, we fought for it and we love it fiercely. We got married here. We bought two homes here. We built businesses here. We had a baby here.