Heather Huie 9/23/18 Heather Huie 9/23/18

Farewell Colorado (For Now)

Farewell Colorado (For Now) | Apollo Fields Heads Eastward | NYC Wedding Photographers

Both of our going away parties began on picnic blankets in parks, surrounded by fresh fruit, local beer, and our closest friends. There were games and laughs, children, and sunshine. But as the days wore on, Heather and I grew closer to the reality of leaving with each farewell embrace. Lucky for me, this time around, I managed to avoid the emotional minefield of “this is the last time I will [insert memorable experience ‘x’] in [insert city ‘y’],” recognizing it as a self-imposed trap set on disturbing the logic of ambition and transition. Despite my valiant effort, both parties ended with me in tears.

I’m a long way from being ashamed of crying in public and even further from trying to hide it. I mean, what’s wrong with coming toe-to-toe with your emotions and ceding to their validity when they creep up behind your eyes? I actually find a problem in trying to suppress them. Because if we try to hide our feelings from our closest friends, then who can we be vulnerable with? In times of happiness and sadness alike, it is in our best interest to try to understand why we feel the way we feel.

In Colorado, my tears finally came when I hugged my friend, Brandon. Although only a friendship of a couple of years, the density and depth of our interactions has stretched our connection over what seems like many more. There is a candor in our exchanges that reflects contemplation and curiosity, the bedrock of understanding. If there’s anything I’ve learned from him, it’s that homemade bread will always be better than store bought. Making goods by hand is more than artistry, it is a source of value beyond our taste buds and aesthetic eyes. Thank you for teaching me this and for your friendship, Brandon.

To all of the others who came to see us off, I’ll never forget those last couple of weeks in Colorado. The Great American Beer Festival, Lake Street Dive at Red Rocks, the Rockies game, and finding a home for all of our beloved furniture. Carya and Thomas, Andy and Elaina, and Shane and Lexi, you all showed up when we needed you most and we barely had to ask. Large events like moving or weddings always bring people together and we aren’t just lucky or #blessed, we are #inyourdebt. Not like the bad kind of debt like student loans but the good kind of debt like owing your neighbor a cup of sugar or carton of eggs. The kind of debt that includes open door policies, late night pickups, and sending you home with a Tupperware of leftovers despite a bevy of polite refusals. I hope to be in debt to you all for a long time to come.

Finally, thank you to Frances & Bryce for sending us on the road with delicious food in our bellies. Whenever I think of Denver I will think of the mountains we climbed and the friends we climbed them with. Here’s to the friendships in our lives that make the Rockies look like molehills.

Terrence Huie 9/14/18 Terrence Huie 9/14/18

This One's For You, Colorado

September is here…

For someone who’s moving across the country and getting married in the next few weeks, I’m surprisingly calm. The opposite of having cold feet, Heather and I are inching towards our departure from Colorado with equal parts celebration and anticipation. Of course, leaving will be hard, but our two years in Arvada has only shown us that our ambition cannot be contained in our cozy cottage on Cody Street.

The friends we’ve made here caught us at a pivotal developmental phase of our relationship, and because of that they mean that much more to us. From the dinner parties to dancing like idiots at Red Rocks, Heather and I have never quite had the community that we’ve fallen into here. I’ve never felt more like myself than when Heather’s sampling sauce from her wooden spoon and I’m welcoming friends in through the front door. To know that our Colorado friends have helped us realize that – these core parts of who we are – is to understand an achievement of friendship that we will never feel worthy for.

It would be scarier to leave if we didn’t have such a solid plan in place. When we land in New York on October 1st, 2018, we are emptying Joey (our car) into our interim home in East Northport, NY, on Long Island, and scooting over to Ramsey, NJ, to prepare Honeymoon Acres for our wedding. It will be a week of tedious logistics where we will transform inevitable accidents and miscues into laughter and memories. After that, we get married, cry, and party. It’s that easy.

From there, we will take our wedding brand, Apollo Fields, into its next iteration: a wedding venue. We dream of a lush green piece of land with a barn and a farmhouse with a long, wrap-around porch, complete with a swinging bench that creaks as you reminisce in those long moments before dinner is ready. We see hard work and love coexisting in a space where relationships are honored as partnerships, and where friendship is built into the bones. The best part about this dream is that we cannot only see it, but that it is fully within our grasp.

I’m not going to pretend to say that I won’t cry when we leave (mainly because I already have), but I will say that the hit won’t be as hard because we have so much to look forward to. When we left New York for Colorado two years ago, we packed everything we cared about into Sacajawea (our now deceased Subaru), and now as we return we will be doing the same with Joey. With Riddle, Rumor, (and Limbo living the luxury life in a commercial trailer) in tow, Heather and I are turning the music up and making our way back home. Who knows when it will hit us, as the tears began to pour as we drove over the George Washington Bridge last time, but I know that I’m ready for them. This one’s for you Colorado.

Your Immeasurably Grateful Friends,

Terrence & Heather

(The Apollo Fields Family )