Nebraska has a special place in my heart. In recent years, I’ve been able to make amazing memories there, nearly all stemming from my friends in Lincoln.
I met Bill and Katie while living in Wyoming. Bill and I worked at competing TV stations but bonded over our passion for the laziest Saturdays watching College Football. His wife Katie and I would go to brewfests together and actually ended up in New Orleans on the same weekend. The three of us also took a trip to Jackson Hole one weekend that turned out to be our last Labor Day in Wyoming.
B&K moved back home to Lincoln when their first babe was born and thus began my multiple and frequent trips to The Cornhusker State. I’ve spent birthdays, Christmas, and just random weekends with them and their extended family. They even named me Godmother to their second babe.
All those sayings about “friends who become family”.. they’re about this little tribe I’ve forged.
Every visit there brings out this feeling of simpleness. And that’s not meant to be a bad thing. Life in Nebraska is just so simple compared to other places like South Florida or New York. While I’m there we go to farmer’s markets, dog parks, walks around the neighborhood where neighbors know each other and wave as they pass. Babies take naps and wake up to play with their toy lawn mower (Babe #1 is OBSESSED with mowing). One year I was there, Santa brought a fresh layer of white snow. It’s just, simple.
Right before my latest visit, I told Katie I really needed to trip. Flying had been getting to me a little bit and I just needed to recharge. Her response was simple: “Come home. We’ll be waiting.”
Home. A place I’ve never spent more than a few days at a time before but collectively have had countless family dinners, celebrated new life and Jesus; I’ve helped cook and clean and have been so happy to do so. Nebraska is home for me. Not in the sense of it’s where I sleep every night (though I do a have a designated room and bed in their house), but in sense of that’s where my family is. The family I’ve chosen and who has chosen me.
I love my real home in Florida. As beautiful as the white Christmas in Nebraska was, I prefer not to have to shovel out of my house. I never get tired of the sunshine (and thunderstorms) of South Florida. But knowing I have a whole other home with it’s own special perks and quirks, it’s comforting. It warms my heart to know these people chose me just as much as I chose them.
AAdventure Seeker 