Never Saying Never

When the U-haul pulled out of my driveway in Nevada, Iowa eight years ago, I swore that I would never go to graduate school again or live in Iowa again. I had completed my first Master of Arts degree at Iowa State University, and as the gravel popped and crackled under our tires, I could not even muster a tear.

It wasn’t that I disliked Iowa. I definitely loved the people. But, my two year stay in Nevada had felt a little isolated and lonely. I had lived alone with my little guinea pig Herbie, and living in Iowa had felt a bit like wearing a tight, itchy wool sweater that was a size too small.

Never again.

I have always been pretty free with the use of “never.” I like to tempt Fate. I am not superstitious. I like to cross under ladders, open umbrellas in the house, and bend down to pet those menacing black cats that wander across my path—even if they do scratch sometimes.

Now, I find myself writing this with another Master’s degree and living in Iowa again. I moved here with a friend because I was in love—as good of a reason as any, but you know in your gut when things aren’t “right.” After a year of living here on my own again, though, I cannot still say that moving here was a “mistake.” I have met some of the most amazing people of my life here in Iowa. I would not trade one second of the time I’ve spent with each person I’ve met while living here, even if it would mean forgoing the hardships and restless, sleepless nights.

Dare I say, now faced with the reality of leaving, I almost never want to leave? Looking around my apartment, things are already beginning to look empty, barren. Bookshelves have been cleared. Boxes are beginning to stack. I never thought I would find myself so sad to leave.

I will carry my experiences in my heart when I move, pack away the memories, and come back for frequent visits. Something about Iowa seems to get into a person’s bloodstream. Maybe it’s the easy smiles that strangers offer. Maybe it’s the inherent goodness and integrity so many Iowans exude in their handshakes and warm words. It’s a little hard not to feel “at home” here.

My moving is motivated by many reasons—one of the biggest is location. As the only surviving child, I feel the burden of the distance from my family. I will be much closer in Indiana. Close enough to drive there in a weekend; far enough to know they will never visit on their own. Ideal.

I never thought leaving Iowa would be this hard. More than just a few tears have already been shed, but then, I’ve always been a crier. Just ask those who know me best.

It is the time to go, though, or else the job opportunity would not have come so easily.

In the end, I guess I’ve learned my lesson. I always do learn best from my mistakes. I have learned to never say never again and to look forward to the next time I find myself living in Iowa.