09/02/2026
Six months of crisscrossing our new state counties, finding all the backroads to drive, thinking of Sarah, Plain & Tall and seeing my Florida ocean waves ripple in the fields of Nebraska corn. Country music filling my SUV, memorizing the harmonies to Merle Haggard & Vince Gill. Watching Winter snow melt to Spring, Spring to shimmering Summer.
They moved the old white farmhouse on big skids that I loved so much on 370, and began to tear up the farmland to build more homes. The cornfields are slowly disappearing as the city grows. “You can’t eat money” I whisper softly as swifts swoop for bugs and ripple the corn tassels. The turkeys look at me like I’m old & stupid & I’ll take the insult.
Someone with their tractor traced a “H O M E” in their plowed field that shows up on Google Maps every time I went looking for a house that could be a haven to us. We lost Dolly Parton & Wendell Berry in the same week & I cried in a diner feeling homesick. We were meant to hold on to the beauty and to look for a Home with a temporary gaze: “they will grow up here…” but one foot on the gas pedal heading on the road to Heaven.
Six months of trying to find my footing again, again, and again. Choosing over & over the cornfield drive to the cold creek to sit in the peace of the water with new friends who hold out hands of friendship. To make Nebraska feel like Home.🌽
