A year ago, over the Memorial Day weekend, my husband and I set out on what we told each other was our final scouting trip to Georgia.

I had my “Buddy Poppy,” newly acquired from the Veteran outside of the bank, secured to my purse strap for good luck, my oversized, unwieldy and completely impractical atlas for security, and a heart full of anticipation and doubt.

A year ago, over the Memorial Day weekend, we stopped criss crossing the state, stopped highlighting areas on the map that we had visited and deemed “not right” took a breath and circled Brunswick with big bold strokes.

A year ago, over the Memorial Day weekend, amongst the Live Oak and Spanish Moss, the sea spray and sand, we asked if we were brave enough, to take on this adventure for real, found our courage, took a leap and landed right where we belong.