Friends and Family

Last week, I had to say goodbye to a good friend who came here after I did. That makes me feel old and local.

When we arrived in Wisconsin, I think that my first words to Kelly were, "Three to five years, right?" At the time, that seemed like such a long time to be in one place and I wondered how long we would really last here. Up to that point, we had never stayed in the same place for longer than two years.

For the first few years, I couldn't figure out how to "do" Appleton and it was hard. I spent many nights feeling lonely and sad, especially while Kelly was traveling, and every third Thursday, I missed my book club friends in Salt Lake terribly (actually, I still miss them).

But slowly I have made close friends and have learned to rely on them the way I used to count on family. I let myself be vulnerable; I told my music jokes that reveal the true dork that I am ("What is a minor second?" "Two oboes playing in unison.") I let them see that my house is usually a little bit messy and that I don't have the first clue about how to decorate. And they are okay with it. We do holidays together. We mark our milestones, moan the mosquitos, and dread every impending winter.

The sadness comes when those friends leave, because most of us are transplants (I wish I had a good reason why most of my closest friends are not locals, but I still can't put my finger on it) and leaving is virtually inevitable.

I met Laurie when I sat on the editorial board of our local paper. She was an associate editor from Texas who would have loved to have been home with her two little boys. We shared enough in common that after I finished on the board, we kept up via email and periodic lunches. She kept me connected to the part of me that is still ambitious and remembers that I can do more than use a Swiffer and improvise dinner based on whatever is in the back of the fridge. Because of Laurie, I have continued to write little articles for the paper.

A big part of me is jealous that she is moving on. I have itchy feet, but in an economy such as this, there are medicines for that. That don't involve changing license plates. Our house is up for sale and if it sells, we hope to build. Here in Appleton. There must be a reason God wants us here for another winter because, as much as I like dreaming of the next great adventure, we feel like it's not time to go yet.

And we have family here.

At least for now.