Turning a Page

Today was my last Sunday here in Cleveland. It wasn't eventful in the least.

In some ways, it will not be that difficult to leave Cleveland. In almost every way, I was not a good fit for this place. But I look back on my brief time here and I'm amazed at what I've learned about myself.

I've learned that life is not worth living if you can't do what you are passionate about. There is simply no dollar value that compensates for meaningful engagement in the workplace. To those that have yet to learn this painful reality, I'm sorry.

I've also learned that I need to be less judgmental. Jennifer is great at this. I am not. I have found so much happiness opening up my heart to those that think no one is paying attention. Comfort is being loved; true happiness is loving others. My mind tends to think in business terms, and I'm amazed at how high the ROI (Return on Investment) is on service and kindness to others.

Similarly, I've learned to accept service. Here in Cleveland I've been touched by small acts of kindness towards me and my family. I hesitate to mention anything because so many have been so thoughtful, but two instances that come to mind are when Laura Welch threw a baby shower for Jenny. Laura learned that even though Jenny was the mother of three, no one had ever thrown her a baby shower. So Laura did, even though there was no baby. Also, when I was gone for an extended period of time this summer, some anonymous friends came by and manicured our back yard. I really hate the anonymous part of that because I have this burning need to repay someone. But that's probably the point--I need to repay everyone.

I've also come to the conclusion that I'm pretty soft. I don't cry very often (unless Jenny is being mean to me), but I swear, I get that lump in my throat so easy nowadays. Usually, its things like Extreme Makeover Home Edition or a personal interest story on ESPN where a football team goes out of their way to ease the pain some kid with leukemia. But it's also when Logan explains a gospel principle he learned in Primary, or Madi shares with a friend, or Grant pulls my hair. And it's also when I think about how lucky I am to have blindfolded Jenny into marrying me. I am seriously the luckiest man alive. Almost by definition, though, that makes her the least luckiest woman alive. Regardless, I find myself swallowing down that lump pretty often as life continues to touch my heart at an ever-increasing pace. I hope that sensitivity is a sign of maturity.

I've also started graying here in Cleveland, by the way.

I've learned other things (like useless facts in all the history books and narrative non-fiction I read and that Jenny insists are as dry as shredded wheat, no milk), but these are the few things I've decided to share on a sleepy Sunday afternoon. If you have made it this far in the post, my apologies.

Oh, and I won't miss the snow.

Cleveland, adios. It's back to the land of lower taxes, unhealthier food, slower speaking, and George Strait.

Que le vaya bien,

Joseph McGregor