Northern Migration, Part 3

I drove north to Austin, MN on the second day of 2011. By the time I drove through the middle of Iowa, the ground was totally white. I wouldn’t see green grass or experience temperatures above 20 degrees for nearly 2 months. I stopped twice to sob uncontrollably and otherwise cried tears of joy, sadness, and utter fear off and on during my 8-hour drive north. Most of my possessions were loaded on a U-Pack truck that would arrive about a week later. My little Mazda 3 Sport was loaded to the ceiling with what I would need until then: clothes, a few cooking items, my TV and laptop, sleeping bag, inflatable mattress, breakables, a stadium chair, and every one of my plants. I am still amazed that none of them tipped over on the trip north considering how precariously they were lodged in my car.

I unloaded my car, set up the few items I had, and then collapsed on the floor in tears in the living room. The events of the past few weeks had caught up with me. I called my close friend Susan and sobbed to her. She would get me through the next months of adjustment to my new life. We would spend 1-2 hours on the phone nearly every night. Our conversations helped keep me grounded and cut the loneliness of this new world. I met new people all day, every day, but I had no friends yet in my new town. It would be a few months before I started to make friends and a year before I felt anchored in this place. She got me through those first and hardest months.

The next morning, I headed to a local coffee shop to use their internet and then to a local clothing store to purchase a pair of snow boots – the first pair I had owned since I was about 11. These weren’t moon boots but rather a warm and sturdy pair of Keens that came halfway up my calf. They kept my feet much warmer and drier than the sneakers I brought with me.

Over the next week, I was consumed with getting oriented to my new position. I completed lots of paperwork, met a ton of new people, and prepared for the spring semester, which started one week after I arrived in Austin.

I threw myself into the work and started to settle into life in Austin. I discovered the nearby nature center and tried cross country skiing for the first time. I bought a heavy, marshmallow winter coat from Eddie Bauer. I learned how to drive on snowy roads. I grieved the loss of the life I had built in Springfield and explored my new Minnesota home. I started seeing a counselor to help navigate all the changes life brought my way. My life opened up to me in a way I had never experienced as time went on. I realized I could be as big as I wanted in my new home and was able to reinvent myself in many ways. Sometimes we have to move to a new place to find ourselves. While it seemed like I was losing so much when I moved to Austin, I was gaining more than I could have ever imagined.

On Thursdays, I had a break between classes that allowed me to take lunch at a little café called The Brick House. This delightful establishment had delicious food and a relaxing atmosphere. It reminded me of my favorite restaurant in Springfield, MO – Tea Bar and Bites. The Brick House quickly became a respite for me. I would take a book, find a corner table, and read and enjoy a wonderful lunch. Often, a retired couple would have lunch there at the same time I did. Sometimes, I could hear their conversations with the owner of the café when the other customers cleared out. I realized we had similar politics and one day chimed in on their conversation. This happened several times before they invited me to have lunch with them. This eventually turned into a weekly meal and a wonderful friendship that survives to this day. Thanks to eavesdropping and politics, I made my first friends in my new home.

That first year in Minnesota was challenging and amazing. I went “Up North” and walked across the Mississippi River at Itasca State Park, attended the Great Minnesota Get Together (aka the Minnesota State Fair), walked across a frozen lake for the first time, bought a bike and started cycling, found my way in my new career as an educator, made some new friends and stayed connected with old friends, and did a lot of work on me. Above all, I made a new life for myself. At the end of 2011, I was amazed at how much life had changed in just one year because I said “yes” to a job offer in the parking lot of a Hobby Lobby.

It’s the best “yes” I uttered in my life.

 

This is part 3 of a 3-part blog.

If you missed part 1, click here.  If you missed part 2, click here.