Out of the Shadows

There is a time for everything. There is a time to be silent, and there is a time to speak. This is my time to speak about one of the darkest days of my life. However, the darkness no longer engulfs the memories, nor does it engulf me, because on the ten-year anniversary of that dark day, everything changed for me. The tenth anniversary of one of the darkest days of my life found me living in Arkansas once again. The morning of April 30, 2018, was a tad cool, even refreshing, as only early spring can be. As I left home, sunlight filtered through the trees illuminating vibrant hues of new life – leaves, grass and flowers – all announcing the arrival of spring. My heart felt heavy but I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to make it through the day and turn the page of the calendar. Completing my first stop of the day, I climbed back into the black pick-up truck, and drove toward Starbucks and a morning of work awaiting me. “Take your mom flowers.” My instant reaction...

My neon pink coat stood out amid the sea of black and brown coats, making it impossible for anyone to do anything except stop and stare, and the typically reserved-in-public Muscovites couldn’t help themselves. I was 11 years old when I wore that neon pink coat and fell in love with Russia and her people. I knew my life would never be the same. Moscow became “home” for me as a young teenager. My time in Moscow remains among the happiest moments in my life. This past week I looked those moments straight in the face and asked “why?” “Why was my time in Russia so special to me?” I knew the main reasons, the reasons I told anyone who would listen as I gushed about living in Russia. I loved the country, the culture, the language, the food, the Russian people, and my lifelong friends. My perspective as a young teenager from a town of 20,000 in Arkansas expanded exponentially upon moving to Russia’s capitol, boasting a population of 16 million, a city teeming with beautiful, precious...