Hello/Goodbye

I've called two places home so far in my life. The interesting thing about these two places is that while they are in the same state, they could not be more different. As I prepare to move away from Lawrence, I have been trying to decide how I am going to say goodbye to a place that I have loved for six years now. But instead of writing what this town and the people here have meant to me, I decided that a better way would be to show you my last six years and what I leave behind, and what I look towards in the future.

I am returning to the family that let me move 300 miles away and never once told me I was making the wrong decision.

I say goodbye to the job I took three years ago, and the people who made that job one of the best places I have ever had the honor of working.

I leave a school and program that allowed me to make such great friends along the way and those who helped me make it through the longest year...

I temporarily say goodbye to the friends that I knew before arriving, and the many I met along the way.

I am thankful for friends made in the beginning....

Still putting up with each other in the end. 

I am grateful for all of these people and countless others who have come and gone from my life in the last six years. I will miss each and every person. As I pack my boxes and prepare to leave, I am sad to go, but again, I feel so very lucky to have attended the University of Kansas and lived in Lawrence these last few years. Because what most of these people don't know is that they weren't just friends to me.

No, they were much more than that.

I left home because I wanted to find something. I know, what an age-old saying. But it is true, nonetheless. I left because I thought getting away was what I needed to do with my life. I left six years ago, only to choose to return to that small town I thought I was trying to escape.

The truth is, I don't think I was trying to escape.

I have met a variety of people in these last years, yet despite their differences, all of them have shown me what I was looking for when I left. I wasn't looking for the meaning of life, nor was I looking to break free of the "small town effect."

I was looking for me.

What these people don't know, and I guess what I am telling them now is, they helped me discover the person I wanted to be. I know how cheesy that may sound, but it is the truth. I spent most of my life being someone I wasn't before I left home, and it took me a long time to figure out who I wanted to be.

I hope I chose right.

I have found myself trying to figure out what I can say to my friends when I get ready to leave this town, and to be completely honest, I have nothing. I know that it is not really goodbye, but I also know that life will never be the same again. They have stuck with me through the ups and downs that life has thrown at us - including my many ridiculous shenanigans - and now we stand on the edge of a new era.

I guess if I had to say anything, it would be thank you.

Thank you for the tears.

Thank you for the laughter.

Thank you for the lessons.

Thank you for reminding me that home isn't always a spot on the map.

Peace, Love, and Rock Chalk...forever. 

His, Hers, & Truth

I have a friend who occasionally quotes the saying, "There are three sides to every story: his, hers, and the truth." I always thought it was a lesson about lying, but recently, I've changed my opinion on this matter.

And it all started with a 4th of July story.

I called my dad and asked him what he and my mom did for the holiday. His story went something along the lines of this: "Well, we went out to the lake and watched the fireworks. Then we sat on the patio and watched the neighbors shoot off their fireworks." I accepted this story, and even found it cute that they did these things together and thought about how thankful I was that my parents still liked spending time together after 28 years.

Then I called my mom.

Her story went a little something like this (abridged version): "Oh lord, Chesney. I didn't think we were going to make it. First, it was this ridiculous back and forth about going, and then again about what car to take. The fireworks already started before we were halfway there. He moved the truck after we already parked, and when it was time to go, he drove without his glasses because he claimed he could see better without them!"

Cue my ridiculous laughter.

I love my parents, that goes without saying. From what I know of them, the "truth" of this story is probably a mixture of both their sides, as it usually is. My parents have never claimed to have the perfect marriage, but a strength of their relationship is their ability to mix two very different people into a couple that works. Dad likes to tell things straightforward, and Mom likes to tell it how it "really was". I don't know why it works, but it does, and who am I to question the fates?

They provide a great perspective to work with.

When it comes to writing stories, one of the most difficult things to do is write from the perspective of a person that you aren't comfortable writing. It would be easy to write a story with an all female cast because writing like a girl is not difficult for me, but that would also be a very boring story. (Come on, we all love boys in stories...they add the drama, right?) One thing that I loved about writing my story was that I got to experiment with several different perspectives, and I was able to create an ensemble of people that strengthened my story line.

Stories like my parents' retelling of their 4th of July help me with my perspectives.

I realize that the quote from the beginning really is true. I still think it is about lying, but I also know it is about the way people look at and view situations. As for me, I listen to stories for the emotions they can stir in a person. I think that it is important to hear all sides of a story because you never know what you are going to get from it. Who knows, a side may just end up written into one of my stories as so many perspectives have already been...

But only I know the truth about that.