Thoughts from a Transplant

Hello world. I've missed you. Well, sort of. Being back with the family is great, and I've been too busy enjoying that to worry much about notifying everyone else that I was in fact still alive. But I am. Never fear.

Okay, so it might be interesting to note that, of the four years (and therefore four Christmases) that I've been in college, I have never spent Christmas in the same place twice. The first year, I went home to Iowa. The next year, I spent it in Utah, because my family came up to see me. Last year I was in California, and this year, well, it's bright, sunny, warm Austin, Texas.

The last time that being "home" for Christmas felt completely like "home" in the way that everyone else thinks of it, I was in Iowa. My freshman year. Since then, my family has moved around and I didn't live in California long enough for it to ever feel like home as far as going to church and seeing friends and people who watched me grow up, and all that great stuff about going home to your roots. Instead, I'm "the Jackson's other daughter" and I get asked the exact same questions by every person I meet about what I'm studying, when I graduate, and what I want to do with my life.

And honestly? I'm a little lonely. At least in the non-family social scene. I miss being around people who know just a little too much about me and drag me on those sometimes-obnoxious trips down memory lane, thus forcing me to relive stupid and/or hilarious things that I did as a teenager. Because no one around here knows those things about me. No one knows what kind of student I was, whether I was the troublemaker in Sunday School, how many pranks I pulled at Girls Camp, or any of those other fun things. Although, granted, I was a good kid, so there aren't a whole lot of blackmail stories that people have about me anyway, but I miss them trying to come up with blackmail material.

Also, I've noticed that being teased about the status of my "M.R.S. degree" (which really isn't all that funny anyway) by a complete stranger is infinitely more insulting than if it were coming from, say, my seminary teacher or the guy who was the Young Men's president while I was growing up.

That being said, I've come to conclude that, as sad as it may be, the closest thing to a "home ward" that I still have is my single's ward at BYU. More people know me there than in my last two wards combined. Kind of lame? Perhaps. But that's what happens when you become a transplant as your family moves around.

Now don't get me wrong. I love that my family moves around. It means new adventures, new places, and Texas is absolutely gorgeous. The little midwestern girl in me who's been missing the wide open spaces and tree-filled rolling hills is extremely happy here in Texas. And it may be surprising to hear, but I also find the Texas pride endearing and enchanting, rather than trite and overbearing. They have a lot of true patriotism and loyalty to themselves and their country, and I like that. It brings back memories from early early elementary school, when they still taught us about what a great nation the United States was, rather than how bad we suck, like they tend to do now. Like it or not, these people have something to stand for, and I like that they do.

Oh, and I feel like gloating just a little bit, because the weather is balmy and beautiful today. I'm more likely to put on short sleeves and walk out of the house without a jacket, than anything else, and although I miss the snow and the whole "white Christmas" thing, I get enough of that during the rest of the winter while I'm in Utah.

So to summarize the thoughts that have been running through my head the last several days as I experience Texas:

I have nothing against being here. I love that my family gets to live here, and I honestly don't think I'd mind at all settling down in a place like this someday. The landscape is beautiful, the trees are big, the rain is rain rather than sprinkles leaking from the sky, and the small-town charm of Cedar Park (where we actually live, just outside of Austin) reminds me of the small-town places we lived when I was growing up.

I am, however, a little lonely for a true home ward, where people know me. I also miss being able to come home and stick my nose into the business of all the young men and women who were still in primary when I left for college and see how much they've all grown up.

Moving around is great, and as long as I have my family, every place feels like home. But it can be a little lonely to be "home" without having all those deep-set roots to anchor you to a place.

So those are my thoughts about being a transplant to Texas. In case any of you ever wondered.