29 October 2013

I have always had an overactive imagination

I saw my friend Jess the day before I left Brigham City to come back to Le Sueur. We talked about her upcoming move across the country to where her husband will be going to school. We were only able to chat for about one minute, then I had to take the donuts I was buying out to devour my share to anxiously waiting family. She mentioned our meeting on her (completely awesome) blog, and it got me thinking.

I found myself thinking about moving. Moving across the country, far from what is familiar. It made me remember the anticipation of wondering how it would be, what the people would be like, how I would fit in and find new friends, what color the sky would be. You know. Thinking about how my life would carry on at all.

I remember the first walk I went on by myself in this new little town.  It was January, and just as you might imagine, Minnesota's offerings of pleasant walking weather in January might mean 30 degrees. It was quite cold. I had had a long day alone with the baby, and Ches urged me to get out for a few minutes when he got home from work.

No one else was outside. It was only rows of cold, stoic house fronts, and tightly shut doors. In my mind I imagined the occupants of those silent houses looking out their peep holes, or through their lacy curtains, and shaking their heads,whitened with age and wisdom, that someone who didn't belong in their town was walking down the sidewalk. It all felt very melancholy and dramatic. I believe I even imagined someone opening their door to throw something at me.

It all seems very silly now that I am settled in, and growing familiar with this place, but the images that surfaced in my head as I shuffled down that uneven sidewalk were true to how I was feeling: unknown, a little lost, out of place, and apprehensive.

So Jess, let me tell you something. You'll have your own walk in January. But, let me tell you something else. After you get back inside, and your husband has made you a cup of cocoa, and put chicken nuggets in the oven, so you don't have to cook dinner, life keeps going on. Not only does it keep going on, it starts to feel normal in a way you never anticipated was possible so far from where you had always been before.

Then, at some point, it starts to feel like its own version of home.


No comments: