~She was right. It did turn out "ok".~

To my dear and much remembered friends back home in the Sunflower State, I send a greeting~

"Happy Kansas Day!"  

It's January 29th, 2015 and the 154th anniversary of statehood for the 34th state of the Union.  I was born in south central Kansas and it was there on the prairie that I lived most of my life until I got married two years ago and moved away to be with Mike here along the Western Slopes.  I've been gone long enough that I no longer miss it each minute of the day but I will always remember it within my heart.  That will never change.

In the early days here I never stopped to reflect why it was that I was so homesick for that wonderful state.  I was just that.

Homesick.  Very much homesick.

As things have gotten better for me, in fact really a whole lot better for me, it's been easier to stop and remember all of the things that I was trying so desperately to forget about in the first two months I was here.  I recall things with a smile on my face now as I picture the woman that I was as I little by little had to give up my hold on the state of my birth.  For the record, I really did have to do that.  You can't live in two states at once and do very well.  It was either going to be Kansas or Colorado and since there was this guy named "Mike" who needed me here,  I ended up choosing Colorado.

For six weeks I refused to change my car tags.  I guess in my mind I was just pretending to "visit" here.  Sooner or later I'd have to go back and why go to all of the trouble of changing them?  Even after I finally gave up and switched them I still was glad that at least the back of the car held the insignia of the dealership back home, one that was encircled by the shape of the state of Kansas.  I held onto little things.

Changing over my driver's license from Kansas to Colorado was not fun either.  I actually took care of that one, primarily due to changing my last name, in the first week I was here.  It nearly killed me to see the worker in the driver's license office cancel out my Kansas DL, one that I had carried since age 14.  When she asked me how I liked Colorado and I told her that I did not, her voice turned into one of sarcasm.  As long as I live, I will never forget the way she sounded or what she told me as she put the final "stamp of invalidity" across my old license.

"Well it looks like you are NOT in Kansas anymore Dorothy!"

And as much as I hated to hear her say it, she was right.  I was not.

 I'm not sure when I turned my way of thinking around.  Kind of strange but I'm really unaware of that moment in time when I finally decided that it was "ok" to live here.  It just came about.  One day instead of looking at the mountains and feeling smothered by them, I realized just how beautiful they really were.  Rather than that claustrophobic feeling of being trapped by them, those beautiful Rocky Mountains now invite me to stay and learn more about what it is like to live around them.  After so many weeks of hating it here and seriously considering the fact that I probably ought to just go back home to Kansas, I now love it in Colorado.  I often think about everything that I could have missed by leaving in the middle of it all.  

Things got better.  A whole lot better.

So Kansas, dear Kansas, I say thanks for being such a good next door neighbor to all of us here in Colorado.  I'm much obliged that you gave me my "start" in life, in fact 57 years of one.  You taught this very shy Kansas farm girl a lot of things; ones that would carry me well through my life.  It was there with you that I learned how to have strength and perseverance, gain fair amounts of courage, to work really hard, and to gather wisdom for my years.  And oh yes, one other thing.

I learned to develop deep within my heart an unending love for the people that I left behind there; ones that still mean all the world to me this day.  

And those people?  They are called "KANSANS".

               My new life is here now along the Western Slopes of the Rocky Mountains. 

I have always loved teaching children about the state where I was from.  I had the chance to do just that when I visited St. Patrick's Catholic School in Owego, New York back in 2013.  They had been pen pals with the kids from my school in Hutchinson.

The message that a friend sent to me in the deepest part of my loneliness during those first long and difficult weeks.  She was right.  It did turn out "ok".