Day Nine: Dear Massachusetts

I'm skipping the task, which is to teach something. Here's a letter to Massachusetts instead:

Dear Massachusetts:

Good evening. You and I have been getting to know each other since June, and we've encountered our share of rough patches, but I'm starting to believe we may find our groove.

Getting to know you has meant that I've had to say goodbye to the city grids that I grew quite fond of using in Kansas, Colorado, and Washington state. I really love grids, Massachusetts, and you just don't seem to give a rip. I'm a timid, polite driver, and I like the idea of taking a back way to get somewhere. I like driving on straight roads and using cruise control. You can call me lazy, but I promise you that I'm not ashamed of these things you seemingly have no use for. But, to your credit, I've never lived in a spot with more beautiful trees. Even though leaves are a distant memory these days, I still agree with Joyce Kilmer who wrote in his poem "Trees" I think that I shall never see/ a poem lovely as a tree." And your winding roads are lined with more trees than I've ever seen; their beautiful lines frame the sky and showcase the moonlight. Nice work with that.

You care nothing about my love for places like Target, Starbucks, and fast food drive thrus. Sure, there's a McDonald's and a Wendy's, close to my house, but I have a decent drive to make to fulfill my need for Chick-fil-a and Taco Bell. Target used to be a stop I made multiple times a week, and now, I have to plan my trips for when I have time to make the drive. I'm completely aware that these problems are of the first world variety, but you're making me change my habits, and it's stretching my comfort levels.

But, Massachusetts, the thing that you've done that's the most hurtful to me is that you've taken me away from my friends and family. How could you do that? I've found it unforgiveable! However, you continue to show me that the people who live here are pretty darn good, too. (I know good people are everywhere, but it's hard to leave good friends and it's hard to open myself up to meeting new people). Just today, the people I was in contact with made me think my family is going to be okay with calling this place home and being a part of our community here.

Early this morning, it was Tina at the grocery store who went back to the back to see if they had the Rachael Ray casserole dish I mentioned I’d been saving the saver stamps to get. She even indulged me when I shouted out that this was my Price is Right moment and called her my Bob Barker. No one is a stranger while you are laughing together.

Later this morning, it was the group of women who were here for a play date when a water pipe burst in my garage. Every single one of them hopped to it, trying to get the water stopped and get the impromptu emergency to a workable place. It's hard to feel alone when people are getting soaked to help you figure out a problem and running and through your dirty basement to flip every visible lever to try and stop a garage monsoon! Quite a way to start a friendship; it sure made me feel fortunate to have them.

Early this afternoon, it was the plumber who came and got everything back in working order. He's the same plumber who was here in September and in October. And here he was again! It was so comforting to see a face I knew after feeling so stressed about not knowing how to solve the issue! He is someone I trust, and he's already proven that he knows what he's doing. It was like a message from God that everything was going to be handled eventually.

So, Massachusetts, I'm coming around. Things are going to be okay between you and me. Though I still miss my friends and family in Colorado and Kansas, I will open a piece of my heart up for you. The people who call your state home are pretty wonderful, and I'm feeling pretty grateful to be part of their community. And in exchange for this gift you've given me, I can deal with long winding roads to Target and Chick-fil-a.

With growing affection,

Elissa Mary Hoffert