Friday night I drove out to
Catherine Creek state park to see my aunt and her friends who were camping
there. It is a lovely drive, one I know
well as it was the road I drove many times on my way to Girl’s Camp. I spent some time with my sweet BFF auntie
and her cute friends and as I was leaving, one of her friends suggested that
they say a prayer for my safe return back to La Grande tonight and back to
Smithfield in a few days. Her prayer in and
of itself was worth the entire drive. She
prayed for my safety and I could feel the love in her voice. She gave thanks
that God had brought me safely home to La Grande again. She gave thanks He had given me the gift of
keeping La Grande as home and prayed that I might know that wherever I go, I
can always keep La Grande in my heart as home.
As I drove back in the dusky
twilight and saw the lights flickering across the valley, I thought about when
we first came to La Grande, 22 years ago. I was heartbroken to leave Utah at 15 and move
here. I prayed and prayed for months
that we wouldn’t have to go. As I told my ladies in Relief Society this past
week, thank goodness God didn’t answer that prayer the way I wanted. Looking back I don’t know exactly when I came
to define this place as home, more so than any other place I had ever
lived. I only know that somehow along
the way I grew roots so deep here that they still thrive, even though I haven’t
lived here in 12 years. Sometimes I
wonder what it is about this place that has such a hold on me. Is it simple nostalgia? Am I living in the
past? I have had several people who love me and know me well wonder that over
the years. I definitely am one for
looking back instead of forward. I do
enjoy driving past my old house, the high school and the seminary building. But while I do see in my mind’s eye ghosts of
myself and my siblings all around; that is all they are…friendly ghosts who bring
with them happy memories but no other connection. My life here was wonderful but that chapter
in my family’s history is done.
So what is it? Is it the sheer
beauty of the town? I look out the window and see Mt. Emily standing tall and
beautiful and looking as though she is there to protect the valley below her, the
endless sea of green pine trees, the red and yellow trains weaving around the
landscape and filling the air with soothing train whistles. Is it the beauty?
Yes, I think that is part of it. Is it
the familiarity and sameness of La Grande that I love so much? I know this
place so well. I know that when I drive down
Island Avenue, I am going to roll down the window (yes, even in the winter)
because I will smell the woodsy scent of the mill. I know that when I go to “Celebrate La Grande”
Al Macloed’s jazz band will play music that will set my toes tapping. Dad calls La Grande Brigadoon. I love that about it. Yes, things change as they always do.
Favorite teachers retire. Special little shops go out of business. Dear friends move or pass away but La Grande
is as rich in treasured traditions as it is in pine trees. Is it the people here that bind me to this
place? My aunt who makes every day a holiday, my sweet cousin, the best friends
who know me so well they finish my sentences, the ward members who fasted and prayed
for me while I was on my mission, people who have believed in me and loved me
for over half my life. Yes, the people…my
people…are a big part of it.
But there is still something more that makes my eyes light up when I
talk about La Grande, something deeper that happens to me every time I drive
around the corner of Ladd Canyon and see my beautiful valley. My aunt was right to thank God for the gift
of being able to keep La Grande in my heart as home. From the first day, even though I didn’t know
it at the time, La Grande has been a wonderful gift, all of it. It was a gift to that a little too tall and a
little too dramatic 15 year old who had struggled most of her school life to
fit in. It has been a gift to the woman
who has dealt with anxiety of losing what she loves since she was six years
old. I know there is such a thing as
constants in my life. I know there is
such a thing as safe harbors. And just
like Frodo Baggins and his beloved shire, if there ever came a day when I
couldn’t ever come back, I “shall know
that there is a firm foothold even if my feet cannot stand there again.”
People ask me some times why I don’t
just move back. Someday I might. But the truth is, it doesn’t really matter
because no matter what happens, I do get to keep La Grande in my heart as home
for as long as I need/want to. Today, I
will probably shed a few tears as I drive back into Ladd Canyon and leave. But I know my other home, my other safe dock,
waits on the other side for me, with my wonderful parents, friends, team BSA,
and the best calling ever.
As I drive today I think I will
listen to Phillip Phillip’s “Home” song.
I think maybe this was what God was trying to tell me all those years
ago.
Settle
down, it will all be clear.
Don’t
pay no mind to the demons. They fill you with fear.
Though
trouble it might drag you down, if you get lost you can always be found.
Just
know you’re not alone…
Cause
I’m gonna make this place your home.
I get it. I miss my Montana home so much, but there is no physical home there anymore, so I grieve and smile all at the same time for the memories and happy, carefree days.
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