I'm going to be a blogger

My hometown gazette has a website and there are a few people on there with blogs. I had recently seen an ad that they were looking for bloggers. I thought, "eh...why not...what have I got to lose." So, I typed up my first post and sent it in. Now, I'm not stupid! I'm sure that they don't have people chomping at the bit left and right trying to be a blogger for their site. So, I wasn't that surprised when they contacted me with a Blogger Agreement. I'm getting that sent in tonight. Hopefully they'll send me posting instructions soon! Regardless, I thought I'd share my first "post" in this blog. Here it is...

A Heart’s Journey Home

I’ve been away from McCook for 13 years and I want to come back! My zip code is in Denver now, but I have such a longing in my heart to return to my home—McCook, Nebraska, 69001.

After having lived in the big city, I can wholeheartedly say that I’m glad for my small town upbringing. Being born and raised in a small town has instilled in me values that I don’t see on a daily basis where I live now. I feel like I have an appreciation for life, or at least the simple things in life, that some individuals I meet have never known nor may never know. Like the highways I travel on a daily basis, life is fast paced and always on the go!


I used to think that living in a big city is where it’s all at, but my point-of-view has changed over the last several years. While I like the conveniences and amenities that a city such as Denver has to offer—stores that never close, access to all kinds of entertainment, a Walgreen’s or Wendy’s on nearly every street corner, and oh, did I mention the Rocky Mountains in front of me every day—I find it to be lacking in other areas. Perhaps for me those areas are of the heart. The big city is great for people-watching and intellectual stimulation; however, I’ve found that trying to keep up with the socioeconomic status of the Jones’ isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.


Please don’t get me wrong! Denver really is a great little big city, and people are generally friendly when you meet them face to face. One thing I have learned, however, is that Colorado drivers seem to use a completely different one-finger wave when they pass you on a busy highway. If I have to explain what I mean by that, then please make sure you keep up with the flow of traffic when driving on the Colorado highways. Unfortunately, there isn’t such a thing as a leisurely drive through the big city, and cordial “greetings” on the highway are few and far between. Also, a big no no in Colorado?! Showing your Husker pride on college game day, especially in Boulder. Who knew!?


When I first met my husband, a native Texan, he balked at the fact that I came from Nebraska. “What’s in Nebraska besides corn and cows?” he said. Yes, this is the general question I get when I tell someone where I’m from. That is, after they’ve gotten over the laughing and the “I’m sorry you’re from the middle of nowhere!” Even better, if I want to tell them I’m from McCook, I practically have to drag a map out to show them where it is. I’ve learned that unless one is from or has relatives in Nebraska, to outsiders there are pretty much only two cities in the land of the corn and cows—Lincoln and Omaha. Oh what people miss out on! I love that Nebraska is often referred to as the Heartland. And, I like to think of McCook as a little piece of heaven right smack dab in the southwestern corner of it.


Back to my husband, the corn-and-cows-commenting-comedian! The first time I brought him to Nebraska five years ago, it was as though I’d seen a changed man. I never have seen such peace on one’s face. And, he is more homesick than I am when we leave McCook after a visit with my parents. All of a sudden, the man I love—the one who had such a narrow-minded view of the heartland—has a heart that is longing to live in Nebraska. And, if he has his way, he’ll jump at the chance to become a McCookite (even though he really doesn’t know what a McCookite is.)


We’re on a journey! While we go through the daily motions of life in the big city, we listen to the cries of our heart and the longing to live in a more simplistic place. For me, having been born and raised in McCook, there is a soul connection that exists, one that I haven’t found since I left 13 years ago. For my husband, there is a peace that he has never found in any place he has lived. We’re not sure where our journey will lead but join us as we travel along. Maybe someday you’ll see us on the streets of McCook and hear my husband say, “howdy neighbor” (he’s a Texan after all). As for me, I will have found my way back home!