a year in the wilderness, pt II

Before even getting home, I had a job offer in Manhattan working at a local restaurant as a cook. I was hesitant to return to Manhattan for a million reasons, but had housing and job there within 24 hours of each other, so it felt a sign to go back. It didn’t mean it was where I wanted to go. I grappled with God a lot in the decision to return home, which I could write an entire blog on itself, but I want to get back to re-entry.

Labor Day weekend. I landed in Nashville to stay with friends for a few days before flying to Kansas City and returning home. I know, you’re all wondering…but my first meal back had to be Chipotle. I think I ate most of that meal with my eyes closed, taking in every flavor I’d missed. Nashville was a sweet time of catching up. Watching Dukes of Hazard, conversations and bookstores. Time in Nashville never seems enough, because my friends there care for me and love me so deeply. But the weekend soon ended, and it was time to board another plane, the last one of the entire World Race. I’d land in a familiar airport. I’d see familiar faces. It was over. I was back.

Upon arriving in Kansas City, I was greeted by very dear friends. The much anticipated hugs and reunions, a few tears, and happy to be held by people I so very dearly loved and missed for the past year were just sweet. My mom joined us and we ate KC BBQ for dinner and spent time laughing and just being glad to be together. It was a weird thing being back, but sweet at the same time. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to explain it, but past racers and those who have spent seasons away from familiar places understand it.

The reunion with my dog was more than hilarious, as he just kept looking at me in disbelief, as if he thought I was gone forever. I was home for a few days, in which I mostly went around to see people in my hometown and slept. I was used to being on some kind of schedule, and having a week of no schedule was an odd thing.

After a week home, I loaded my few things–two storage totes of clothes–into the back of my Ford Ranger and drove the familiar road to Manhattan, Kansas. I wondered what awaited me in the coming months. I had a million questions on that drive, and wrestled with God on a lot of them.

Would my community in Manhattan even know me any more?

Who would I actually get to spend time with?

How would work go?

Could I actually return to a place I’d spent nine years and it still feel like home after being gone for a year?

How would I begin to talk about that last year?

The questions all melted when I pulled up to the Williams’ house. Where I had called home the six months prior to leaving for the race. The family welcomed me back with open arms. I got settled into my old room there and took a deep breath. The next day I would start a new job. I would work the first week straight, getting familiar with the menu, the people, the work. I didn’t know this first job back would end up being both a blessing and a curse. I didn’t know two coworkers would become to of my nearest and dearest friends. That a year later, we would be having cheesecake and wine nights once a month, and that those nights would become sacred and holy places and conversations. I didn’t know a guy would have a crush on me, and that I’d end up drinking a lot of whiskey. Or that at age 30, I’d have my first chocolate milk, hand-mixed by David, to be drank at that bar. I didn’t know all of the things that would follow that first day. But I did know it was where I was supposed to be.