Like most kids in our hometown, we always dreamed of living somewhere else. Somewhere with more trees. Or water. Or more stuff to do.
She actually moved away from our little town for a few years when she was in her twenties, but moved back a few years before we met and married. I had always dreamed of moving to Austin, Texas and living where all of my favorite music was centered. She gave me a much better reason to stay where I was.
We settled into a new home and a routine of working our jobs and watching the years fly by. She owned a travel agency, so we spent every available vacation day traveling around the country and the world. We found some favorite places we returned to again and again, always having the "would you want to live here?" conversation about most destinations we visited. The only destinations that garnered a "yes" or "maybe" had one thing in common: water.
Whether it was the quaint little village of La Jolla, California or the rugged coastline of Vancouver Island, British Columbia, we gravitated toward water in our travels. But, all of our talk about moving to someplace by the water was mostly pipe-dream, with little serious consideration. Until we visited Lake of the Ozarks, in the heart of Missouri.
Since the lake was only an hour away from some family members, we booked a week in a condo there and invited them to join us. When we walked into the condo for the first time and saw its amazing lake views from several rooms and an expansive screened-in balcony, we both had the same reaction: Lake of the Ozarks was not only someplace we could see ourselves living, but it was a place we began to consider seriously as our next home.
We returned home and began a period of mental turmoil that would last six months before we finalized the decision to make the move.
As I write this, we are on the cusp of the biggest change to our lives in several decades, and we can't wait for it to happen.
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