I don’t know why I’ve always felt such a pull to Utah. Ever since I was a kid, I longed to spend time along the Wasatch Front. I think it’s because Utah was the one place on earth where there were more people like me (Mormon). Most of our extended family lived in Arizona and California, so it’s not like Utah was returning to the Motherland. But I always wanted to go.
I spent the past six days in Utah, driving past old haunts, seeing old friends, and I was caught completely off-guard by how much I missed Utah. Especially the people.
People I hadn’t seen in years–and often hadn’t talked to in just as long–rearranged schedules, got sitters for the kids, opened homes, and shared food with me. I feel blessed to know the people I do in Nebraska, so how is it fair that I have just as wonderful people to call friends who live in Utah? And Ohio?
So, my dear Utah friends, thank you for making time for me. I know you all have busy lives, and you made me feel so loved for six straight days.
You’re all the best.