Twenty-five miles from Asheville, Lake Lure is beautifully nestled in the Appalachian mountains. A long sprawling lake twists and curves through the valley, which is fed by the richly bouldered Broad River. Holding the town in its protective embrace, Chimney Rock stands tall above. Cozy bed and breakfasts, restaurants, eclectic boutiques, and gem mine shops, and the friendliest folks with deep southern drawls make this mountain town a most magical place to spend your days.

Nineteen years ago when John and I began our long-distance romance, I flew down to Charlotte for a long weekend and he took me to the Esmeralda Inn in Lake Lure. So loved is this inn, that Esmeralda was even a name on the short list for baby names when I was pregnant with Porter.

It was a cool spring night when we arrived at Esmeralda. We were in the corner room on the second floor, as seen in the black and white image. Billowy white curtains let in a fragrant breeze and we could hear the river trickling below. It was the spot when I realized: I loved this man. And while it would take John nearly a year later to profess his love to me, he’s the first to admit it’s where he fell in love with me too. He even wrote a poem of the our time here (I’ll see if I can dig that up when we return home!).

During our visit, we climbed Chimney Rock, shopped the little town and best of all, ran out to the river at midnight where we laid upon some boulders, staring up at the moon, and talked until the wee hours of morning.

Fast forward to 2020 and we now have three children in tow. John and I squeal as we recognize locations, ooh and aah at the changes that have been made, and race down memory lane sharing stories with the kids. At one point, Siena looked at me in wonder with a soft smile on her lips. “What is it?” I asked. She said, “Mommy, you’re glowing. You’re smiling like I’ve never seen before. You’re just so happy!”

She was right. I felt like a young woman in love again. The tingles at his touch, the race of my heart when he smiles at me or when his hand nears the small of my back. I think that definitely says something about a marriage when after nearly two decades together you can still get that giddy feeling.

John worked and lived in Lake Lure for a few months when he first moved to Charlotte (before we met). His condo was at the top of White Oak Mountain. Every day he winded up and down the steep and often fog-dense road, with dangerous switchbacks and fallen rocks. Naturally he had to show the kids. At the top of the mountain is a large plateau of well-maintained lawn, giving the kids ample space to run. Oddly we found a couple dozen mandarin oranges lying about, which turned into a spirited game of “pelt dad”, that ended with an orange exploding on his face. John joked that he smelled citrus for the next two days! Some of the best memories are the unplanned ones.

The following day we met up with our oldest and dearest friends from Charlotte, Jay Weinmiller and Mimi McLeod. Twelve years ago when we decided to relocate to Minnesota, the call to Mimi to tell her the news was the hardest. For as excited as I was to be near my family, my heart broke to say goodbye to the many friends I had made in Charlotte, Mimi and Jay especially.

The last time we were in Charlotte, Siena was six months old. A lot has changed in those 11 years. Despite the time apart, we picked up right where we left off. There was no awkward silences. We laughed and talked and marveled at how are lives have evolved. Seeing Jay and Mimi reminded me of all that we left behind and reminded me of the life John and I had pre-children.

Life then was so carefree and fun. We had dinner parties. We had a co-ed bookclub that was more wine and less book. We dined at new restaurants regularly. We went to galas and events. I had a lot of reasons to dress up and thus had a stellar wardrobe, and a closet full of shoes and chunky jewelry. I rode a scooter as my main mode of transport. I worked hard and played harder.

Don’t get me wrong… I love the life I have now. I love living in St. Paul. I love my kids more than anything in the world. I have explored interests and talents in myself that I hadn’t made time to find before. And I’ve made some priceless connections and friendships in Minnesota. Life is good. Great, even.

But going down memory lane and all that you left behind leaves one melancholy and thoughtful. It was hard to say goodbye to Jay and Mimi. I am not ashamed to admit I cried when we parted. Fortunately John understood exactly what I was feeling. We set the kids up with a movie in the back so John and I could share a drink in pensive quiet.