What a year of change

On Saturday, May 27, 2006, I stuffed the last of my belongings into my car and watched Lexington, KY, disappear in my rear-view mirror as I headed South on I-75. It was the end of two years and four months in the Bluegrass, and in many ways, it couldn’t come soon enough. My life and career had hit a rut. I was no longer happy and needed to be closer to my parents in South Carolina as they deal with some health issues. Fortunately, with the help of an old friend, I landed a job here in Wilmington.

As I headed toward Columbia, SC, that day now just more than a year ago, I doubt I expected anything like what would happen in the next year. I knew I wanted to begin a new chapter in my career by putting the days of chasing car wrecks, housefires and other stories of human suffering around Kentucky. And I knew my new job as an anchor here could help me personally, giving me greater visibility in the community. I’ll admit I hoped there might be a lovely, sweet, news-watching young woman out there who might want to meet the “TV guy” as so many people call me. I felt I was definitely ready for a serious relationship after so many failed attempts at love.

Just a couple of months after I moved here, I found that love I was looking for. Through a series of totally random events, I met a wonderful young woman. As soon as we started getting to know each other, Tiffany and I both had a feeling that there was something special between us. It didn’t take long for us to fall head-over-heels in love with other, a love that has grown and deepened in the months since.

Friday night, one year after my friends in Kentucky threw me a going-away party, my relationship with Tiffany reached a special point, when I proposed to her along the Wilmington riverfront. The days since she said yes have been hectic. The wedding planning is in full swing. The stress level has already grown at times. But the love and support from each other and from other people has been great. There has been a lot of good advice. Perhaps the best has come from my sister, who reminded us to keep things in perspective as we work toward the big day.

“Remember,” she wrote to me in an e-mail, “it shouldn’t be the best day of your life. It’s the first day of the rest of your life. It’s supposed to get better from there.”