One of our guest bedrooms, recently transformed into Camp Justin, 48 hours ago.

Time has a funny way of compressing and becoming slippery as moments of anticipation draw near.  About a month ago my husband’s son Justin took over part of our house for his last month in Los Angeles before he left to begin a new chapter in Boulder, CO.  When he first started living here, it felt like we had all the time in the world to hang out, share dinners and discuss all the excitement surrounding his decision to pack up, quit his job and start anew a few states over.  The days felt long; the evenings lingered.

About a week ago the energy in our house shifted ever so slightly, as if the refrigerator began humming one octave lower, and beneath all the normal comings and goings the reality of Justin leaving sank in a little bit deeper for all of us.  By the time his going away party started this past weekend, we were all finally admitting to ourselves and to each other that Justin was actually…moving.

He drove away this morning, waving good-bye all the way down the street with trailer in tow, while his dad (my husband), sister and I waved furiously back.  Not too long after, I came upstairs to find Camp Justin looking incredibly bare and lonely:

It is an emotional journey to travel through moments where your happiness and excitement for someone you love exists alongside the normal yet selfish desire for things to remain exactly as they are.  We would all much rather have Justin here; we are all sad to see him go.  But beneath this veneer of longing, beyond the tears that have been shed and will continue to fall from time to time, Justin has a passionate cheering section wanting nothing more than for him to go, go, go and live his life to the fullest.  Justin left today with a packed trailer that now houses almost everything he owns and a mountain of love and support that could have carried him to the moon if that is where he had set his sights.  Lucky for us, he chose a location that is a short plane ride away.

As he was saying good-bye to all the friends who came to his going away party Saturday night, I couldn’t help but think about all the lucky souls in Boulder who, right now, have no idea that they are about to meet Justin.  Right now there are people going to work, walking their dogs, riding their bicycles and doing whatever they normally do completely unaware that their lives are about to be blessed by a brave, creative adventurer who is now on his way to their community to make his mark.  We do not know who these people are, but whoever they turn out to be should consider themselves lottery winners.  It will not be too long after meeting Justin that they understand this, for to have the wonderful fortune of being a part of Justin’s life is to feel like a special ray of joy shines in your world everyday. 

For me, that joy will not diminish just because he is farther away.  This is a light that I carry with me at all times, a source of strength and compassion I turn to probably much more than Justin realizes.  Justin’s light will only magnify as he continues to grow more fully into his own skin and discover new sources of power and wisdom within himself.  To be able to witness this firsthand is a tremendous honor, and as I sit here now, in a house that has a Justin-shaped hole in it, I cannot decide whether I need to sob or laugh out loud at the thrill of it all.  I imagine I will probably do a little bit of both these next few days, and in between I will simply smile, because to know Justin is to smile a lot…at his humor, his sensitivity, his passion, his drive and his generosity…at the very simple fact of just knowing him, and being able to call him your family.

To read about Justin’s adventures – and wish him well – visit his new blog here.