Vivien Leigh as Scarlett O’Hara, image from fanpop.com
“Where?” I said.
“Wichita,” said my husband. And so it began.
The small successful company where my husband works has been acquired by a big successful company headquartered in Wichita. And they’ve offered him a job he really wants to do. In Wichita.
That’s Kansas. The state, not the band. Dorothy’s home turf before the tornado whisked her away to Oz.
All right. To my Midwestern friends, please excuse the sarcasm.
The Midwest is a mighty fine place and I understand why you like it, especially if you were raised here, went to school here, or got married here. That’s precisely why I like The South.
I’ve been very open about my desire to move back to The South and raise a Carolina boy who grows up to attend a fabulous University in an enchanted place called the Triangle. Wichita doesn’t fit into that plan.
Back in August when I posted Welcome to the Wild West, I boldly wrote: To the west, young woman, as far as this horse will take you.
That was figurative. I didn’t mean to actually go west.
Wichita doesn’t have a J Crew store. According to Wikipedia the city’s nickname is Cowtown, although my husband disagrees. He says Dodge City is Cowtown. Can you feel my pain?
However, we visited Wichita to discover the people are kind and welcoming. The schools and houses are great. And I’d have a chance to become a real cowgirl.
My husband is excited about the job. His mentors are positive. Lots of people move, they say. We shouldn’t worry about our son. He’ll adjust to it fine.
“Did you tell them it’s not your son you’re concerned about?” I said as my head fell to my keyboard. Crash!
We’ve relocated twice before. Vowed never again to follow companies around the country for jobs in states that don’t have ina at the end.
East coast, please. Thirteen original colonies, south by southeast. Lakefronts are beautiful, but they’re not beaches. I miss my family, my ocean, my people.
When my husband first mentioned Kansas, it took all my strength to pull my hair up into a ponytail and run to the mall. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: Where else does a Gen X girl go when in flight?
As I brushed and gathered the locks, silver strands shined through winking at me like tinsel. I’m an adult. Have to act like one. Be thankful he has a job.
So does blogger girl put on the brave Midwestern face? Spit and shine her attitude? Think of this as a new adventure?
Or does she kindly, with the sweetest tea accent she can muster, decline the invitation to dance, hike up her hoop skirt, and get back to where she once belonged, bless her heart?
Gotta love a good cliff-hanger.
Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9 NIV
Ladies and gentlemen, The Beatles.