Finding “Me” in Montana

I’ve been a little lost lately.  A lot lost, actually.  It’s been a tough year, haunted by the memory of watching my father suffer through his final days.  It’s left me changed.  I once was fun, spunky, always smiling.  It’s the trait my dad said he liked most about me—that I always had a smile for everyone.  But the sadness overwhelmed me for a good while.  Smiles were harder to come by.  The sadness simply swallowed me.

Then I went to Montana.  Not a place I would have picked personally, but it was a press trip and that’s the place they sent us.  And this place transformed me.  Maybe just for a few days.  But in Montana, I found me again.

I found that I can enjoy spending time in a state that isn’t on the coast. I found that I have a talent in skeet shooting—who would have ever thought?  I found that I really enjoy connecting with people from all over the country that I never would have had the chance to meet had I not been part of this trip.  And I found that I still love to dance.

One part of the trip included a big cookout party and mini-concert with a band on its way up (Annabelle Road).  Give ‘em a year and they’ll be on the biggest stage you can imagine, but for this one night, they were putting on a concert for less than 50 of us.  They sang and I danced.  It’s one of my greatest pleasures, but something I hadn’t really let myself do for about a year.  I danced all night, with everybody.  I had the time of my life just letting go.  It’s a night I’ll think about for a long time to come I am sure.  In Montana, I found happiness again, deep down in my gut. 

For one night, a few hours, I was me again, stress-free and smiling.  I thank my new friends who let me dance with them, giving me grins and hugs, telling me to keep on dancing…to be me.

I know it’s unlikely, but I hope I’ll see these friends again, just to let them know how much that one night meant.