Goodnight, Montana

I drove out of Montana in September 2005 not expecting to return. My 4th and final season in Glacier National Park had come to an end. Though thoroughly saddened by the fact my “seasonal life” was over, I knew it was time to let go. I knew there were other things waiting for me. I understood I had to close one chapter before I could begin a new one. Still…that drive wasn’t easy. For 5 hours, as I moved north to south, I reflected on what the previous 4 summers had meant to me and how they had changed me. It was an emotional ride. The final outburst came as I crossed the border into Idaho. “Goodnight, Montana,” I said aloud. “I know I’ll be back…but our relationship will have changed.”

I arrived home in Salt Lake feeling overwhelmed. I knew I was headed in a brand new direction. But there were no specifics. Instead I had to feel around a little, take a few missteps, and find my own way. In retrospect, it didn’t take long. Within a month and a half of coming home, I was back in my car, driving on the highway to, of all places, Montana.

Good fortune, divine intervention, luck, “meant-to-be”….I don’t care what you call it. I was just incredibly happy to begin my “new” life in my “old” place. It’s funny how you can look back and view a time in your life as being much better than it actually was. Overall, I had a great time in Bozeman. But I’d be lying if I said it was easy. In the beginning, I would often focus on how much time was left on my contract. One month down. Two months down….and so on. I just wanted my two years to be finished. It’s somewhat difficult to explain why. Bozeman was the first place I had ever lived where a social structure wasn’t built in. It’s not easy to make friends in an unfamiliar place…at least not for me. Frankly, I was uncomfortable and lonely in the beginning…and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I guess that’s why I wanted it to just be over. To be clear, it wasn’t a matter of wanting out of the situation. It was a matter of wanting to have made it through…without the necessary effort.

Things slowly got better. Again, I won’t lie and say my social life here is amazing. But I did meet people. I made friends. I got comfortable. Dare I say…Bozeman even started to feel a little like home. I can look back on this process of adjusting to a new place…and call it a learning experience. I can take what I learned here and try not to make the same mistakes in Boise. I think I’ll be okay.

While I muddled my way through the new challenges in my personal life, I feel like I thrived professionally. I’m the little kid who wanted to be a news anchor. I knew it at 5 years old. For some reason, it was something I was always drawn to. To see that dream realized was surreal. To actually do the work was validating. I remember how I felt the very first night I anchored the news. When I look back at it now…I’m a little embarrassed. I was nervous. I was very green. I was stiff. It shows. But still, I knew I did well for the level I was playing on. I called my parents after the show. My mom said, “Well? How’d it go?” With a big grin on my face, I said, “I was born for this.” I know it’s cheesy. I know it’s corny. I know I’m a dork. But I was really, really happy. I felt validated. That validation only grew. I made an impact here. I impressed people. I did good work. I made myself proud. A first job in this business is supposed to be your proving ground. I proved myself. I’m not blind to the fact that there is much, much more to learn. But I think I built a very sturdy foundation in Bozeman.

My next drive out of Montana will be today. I’ll probably cry like a little girl. I’m not sure if I show it or not…but I suspect I’m much more emotional and sentimental than most people think. It’s hard not to be. Over and over and over again…I’ve waxed poetic about Montana. I can’t help it. Everything I’ve found here has been good. It healed me emotionally. It nourished me physically. It helped me socially. It grew me professionally.

The only thing left to do is say thank you. Thank you to the people I met here. Thank you to God for putting me here. Now it really is time to move on. Not because I want to. Not because I even have to. But simply because the time is right.

As far as Montana is concerned, David Walburn said it best in song.
“…you can never say goodbye to her, you can never say goodbye….just good night”

So that’s what I’ll say. Goodnight, Montana. Goodnight.