Five Years Ago

What a difference five years can make.

I want to say January 26 was the magical date. I know it was toward the end of January 2019, and for some reason, the 26th sticks out to me.

That’s when that inciting relationship ended.

For good.

Or, should I say, for the best?

She left and on her way out, she said the same thing Jarrod’s mom had said as she was on her way out: “You’re going to die miserable and alone.”

At the beginning of March, just a month and some change later, my car was on the back of a tow truck. The driver was at my front door asking for the key so the repossession wouldn’t cost me another few hundred dollars for them to rekey the car.

Some weeks later, dad and I were on our way to Arizona to recover it after, out of some insane kindness in their hearts, he and mom had lent me more money to get it back.

I was moving in with them.

I’d made a lot of really dumb mistakes in my life recently. I was on the hook to my parents and my grandma for a ton of money. I didn’t have any credit card debt because my credit was in the shitter but my bank account was overdrawn and I was pretty much out of control mentally and emotionally.

What a difference five years can make.

It was four years ago the other day when I came home with Ash. I’d just moved into an apartment three and a half months prior. It was the first time in my life I’d ever lived alone. I’d just spent that first Christmas alone.

She had texted me a few days prior on that January 26 (or whatever date it was) “congratulating” me on making it a year. I spiraled for a bit, but then found my buddy. His name was Cleveland when I adopted him. That changed immediately.

It was four years ago on February 1 when Alan and I were in a chair at Star Tattoos in Corrales, Alan getting his first and me getting my… what, 14th or so?

Semicolons, on the insides of our left wrists. A good, constant reminder to pause; my story isn’t over quite yet. We followed that up with beers at Boxing Bear Brewery in the same parking lot at the tattoo shop. That was a great day.

It was four years ago coming up, Leap Day, in fact, when I finally met Brandy, after a few weeks of talking via text and Facebook messenger. Then, shortly after that, the entire world shut down, but my world had just begun.

What a difference four years can make

It was three years ago this past December when I took my first hike ever. It was an awful trail, granted, but at the time, I didn’t know any better. I only knew hiking was something I’d wanted to try, going on a silly little mental health walk. And, not gonna lie, that shit kinda slapped.

(That is from a TikTok video that I absolutely adore.)

That moment, when I was walking on that dusty trail in jeans and hand-carrying my water with nothing else on me, changed the very fabric of my being. I became addicted to hiking. More precisely, I became addicted to being out.

Not long after that first hike, I was on my first camping trip with Alan. Four months later, I was on my first solo camping trip. Four months after that, Alan and I were camping in the snow. Prior to that first hiking trip, I’d liked to travel and get out and see things, but after that hike, I was an outdoorsman.

Now, I still love to travel and get out and see things, but when I’m traveling, I’m checking AllTrails to see where the nearest hike is.

What a difference three years can make.

It was two years ago coming up at the end of February when we packed up a U-Haul and drove a thousand miles to a rental we signed a lease on but had never set foot in. I was getting ready to start my new career as an Epic analyst at UnityPoint Health, who hired me just months after being certified in Epic but having almost no experience using it and even less experience supporting it. The time I spent at UnityPoint was invaluable. I got the experience in Epic support I needed to be able to get the magnificent job I have now with the University of Washington. I’m supporting Epic Phoenix now, what I was initially certified in while at Presbyterian in Albuquerque, making more money that I ever imagined I would, with benefits I never thought I’d have.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved working at Presbyterian. It had its downsides, sure, but I had been there nine years when I left, I’d forged some reasonably strong friendships (in fact, I still swing by and see them whenever I’m in town) but when we moved, it helped further my career just a little bit.

Don’t get me wrong, working at UnityPoint was fine. I made some great friends in the short time I worked there, friendships that continue even though none of us work there any more, but when the opportunity for a better, more focused job with better pay and better benefits came up, how could I not take it?

What a difference two years can make.

It was one year ago the other day, January 27, when we moved into our house. We’d made the offer in October 2021, closed in November and spent the next couple months on a rampage of remodeling, redoing floors, painting, completely overhauling what would become our living room.

I had spent the week prior to us moving in living alone in the house and continuing work on it while Brandy stayed in Coralville finishing up the packing. I went back to the rental on January 22, helped finish the last of the packing for five days, then that Friday, January 27, we said good bye to the rental and officially moved in as residents of Ottumwa.

Work on the house hasn’t stopped since we’ve moved in, and there’s still plenty to be done. The basement needs to be finished, the kitchen counters, sink, and garbage disposal need to be replaced, the front deck needs to be rebuilt, the living room (that’s built on the back deck) needs to be jacked up and anchored more stably… some of the work we will hire out, some we will do ourselves, but this house is like Disneyland: it will never be finished.

But, it’s our house.

After selling the marital house in Rio Rancho, I’d lived in rentals ever since. Some houses, some shithole apartments, at one point, rent free at Kirtland Air Force Base in Albuquerque, and most recently, a duplex in Coralville, but now, we’re homeowners again.

What a difference a year can make.

It was moments ago when I made my last payment on that car. That car that had been towed out of my driveway five years prior.

If I’d continued making minimum payments, my last payment would have been in June. My last seven payments though were over the minimum and got me ahead enough so that after my January payment, they said my next payment wasn’t going to be due until March. But, after leaving a balance just over $1,200, we were close enough to be able to just pay it off and be done with it.

While I was at it, I also paid off the five credit cards I’d managed to get approved for since moving to Iowa. After starting that journey with a credit score that started with a four, I’m reasonably certain that after paying these cards off, that first number will be a seven. That seven will allow us to go get a truck to be able to pull a large fifth wheel around the country and get even more traveling in.

The incredible sense of accomplishment I felt when making that last payment was insane. I immediately flashed back to that moment when the doorbell rang and the tow truck driver was on my doorstep telling me he was taking my car. Telling me it’d be easier for me to give him the key and if I wanted the car back, I wouldn’t have to pay for the car to be re-keyed.

That was pretty close to the lowest point of my life right then.

What a difference five years can make.

Post-script:

To those that said I’d end up alone, well…

Look at me, I’m on top of the world.