It's Good to Be Back.

I am now a Georgia Peach. I don't know what that means, or if I care, but I suppose it's now official. I moved from my old house over 3 months ago in AL the 6 miles across the Chattahoochee into GA, but have yet to obtain the proper documentation and release AL as home sweet home. After waiting over 3 hours at the one location in Columbus you can obtain a driver's license, I have now become a legal resident of the State of Georgia. My Georgia State Farm Insurance was putting the pressure on thick, seeing as how they're insuring someone without their state's license and all....I suppose I should invest in car tags next.

But I'm not sure it was the state seal or that l-o-v-e-ly picture that caused me to tear up at the DMV last week in front of every...let's say, in front of everything Columbus had to offer that day....in line around me as they handed me my new identification card. It was my name, Jennifer Leigh Simpson. The lady behind the counter said, 'Ma'am please check all the information to make sure it's correct now.' I looked: my new home address, which several months later I'm still getting used to--check. Organ donor-check. Blue eyes, brown hair-check, check. Weight:big fat lie-check. Oh yeah, and my new (old) name. Don't get me wrong, it's been the plan all along to go back to it, but there's been one thing or another that's held me back, that's stalled me. Selling our old house, buying my new one, taxes, but finally after almost a year, finally, it's time. And looking at it, finally on something official, made me smile. And cry.

I'm in a new chapter, but it's so comforting to have something familiar there. Even if it is just my name. And if it means walking out of a DMV crying like a idiot, I'll take it.

I called my dad, because in a weird way, I felt like I had accomplished something, whether it was finally marking something off my to-do list, or if deep down it was a little more complicated than that, to share the news. 'Daddy, I'm official,' is what i told him, realizing I didnt make much sense, and then went on to tell him, I'm sure dramatically, my story of the 3 hour wait with all the characters at the DMW. I could feel him smiling on the other end. I expected my dad, always the levelheaded, mature, man of logic and reason within a house of 3 crazy, animated women, to reply with a comment on how this is good for me, another step in the right direction, in healing, in moving on, and go on to tell me I need to go to my HR person at work next and get things started there....surprised me. He laughed through the phone, and said 'Well, it's about time! Welcome home, Punkin Head. It's good to have you back."

If I could have spoken at that moment, I would have said: Thanks, Daddy, it's good to be back.