Aurevoir Paris of the Plains – waving goodbye to KC from 30,000 feet up

Somehow in the process of trying to deny that things are always changing, we lose our sense of the sacredness of life. We tend to forget that we are part of the natural scheme of things. – Pema Chodron
This post has been rumbling around inside of me for two months (not long after my last post, oops). No joke, it’s choked me up more than a few times trying to write it. It wasn’t the right time. I was forcing it. And nothing worth doing ever feels that way. So I didn’t. And I just did the millions of other things that have made this season hectic. I’ve been trying to ruminate on how I feel about moving clear across the country without forcing myself to write about it. Which is unusual for me. But this hasn’t been a typical summer. Three days into Fall, and I’m in the middle seat of the very last row, on a plane somewhere over the Rockies (probably). Paisley Mae Mae is on my lap, crowding the man’s armrest next to me. (I heart you, Alaska Airlines.) And it’s finally happening. More than two months in the making, more tears than I’d like to admit, more late work nights and early mornings, more coordination than I thought possible, more moving boxes than I’ve ever seen and it’s happened. We are moving/moved – en route – to Seattle and a new life in the Pacific Northwest. And I’m finally able to feel like I can take a breath; to look around and enjoy it; to take stock of how far we’ve come, how much I’ve learned, and how grateful I am for my family and work family for allowing and helping me to have this wonderful opportunity to go explore a totally new, unexpected adventure with my love.crossroads
This past week saw my last night in Kansas City, my last walk to yoga class in the hot Plaza end of summer air, my last time cooking in my cute little kitchen, and my last time looking into the courtyard from my wall of windows that I’ve called a home for the last 12 months.
When I moved to Kansas City one year ago I never thought that it would be this short of a stent. My dad and I piled into the city exhausted, in his truck pulling a weighed down Uhual trailer after a ten hour drive where I cried my eyes out, terrified I was making a mistake and wondering out-loud if he should take me back to Memphis. (He is literally a saint for helping me. Change and I are sometimes not good friends.)  I’m not going to lie and say that I pictured myself settling down there forever right off the bat. I think since I was little, on the inside I’ve always imagined myself near the sea at some point.  But KC was a very safe, comfortable landing place for me coming from Memphis, and it’s been a wonderful place for me to explore what I like and don’t like about my life. It’s easier to do that when you live alone, which is something I’m extremely grateful that Kansas City gave me, along with great coworkers, my crazy realtor shoeless Bill, Midwest thunderstorms, the West Bottoms, the opportunity to see my best college friends regularly, and many other things. The ability to carve your own way in a little apartment and be your own best friend in a new environment was so good for me. My apartment was a lemon for sure, but it was my lemon. I said goodbye to it like you say goodbye to an old friend who you know will always be a phone call away. In a happy way, because it was a place that served its purpose so well. (Change and I are making strides in our relationship.) In a way, this city has always felt a little like a home away from home, even before I moved back to the Midwest. I imagine coming back to Kansas City will always feel like coming home, even though I wasn’t born here. I have nothing but great memories, happy family memories. Memories of my mom and I Christmas shopping, being in KC with my grandparents, and memories filled with my best girlfriends and birthday parties. There were some great tailgates and always the fun surprises of running into everyone from college. Lots of Jayhawk rivalries, baby showers, wedding showers, and family style dinner parties. These things will always be the warmth and heart of Kansas City for me. The place where you can never find a bad steak and always have Midwestern sincerity. Where people are smart and ingenious, a little sassy, but still the epitome of welcoming. The Midwest is such a real place. And I will always love it. I’ll be back soon, for work and play since I am now a remote worker. But I do hope one day we make our way back to live here. On a farm with dogs and cats and chickens and goats and enough good Midwestern dirt I can play garden in under a central plains sunset. But for now, the Emerald City is calling. And I’m answering. Here’s to watching us roam in one more amazing backdrop.
Western Union
Peace out, KC ~ Amanda

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