my careless contagion

I visited McCook, Neb., again Feb. 5 and 6 (no, I didn't take these photos). This post contains thoughts about my time living and going to school here more than two decades ago, probably reconstituted from previous visits, but I felt something was left buried here, like the reason why my life went a completely different direction from what was anticipated. Also, I really wanted a bath so got a hotel room with a bathtub. I needed some time away and knew if I stayed close to home, I would end up at work (and the point was to get away). Anyway, what happened? Well, for one thing, I saw Cindy for a bit. More later. Also, this is a long post. Sorry.  Why McCook again? Am I obsessed? Vaguely. I actually dream about this place: the streets, houses, smells, feelings, and what I did. We often dream about unresolved things. Maybe it is about my education. Maybe about a girl. Maybe about youth wasted. Maybe all of it. Driving the streets and highways I used to drive brought back one overridin...

Nebraska, you're not for everyone. But on this road trip, you were home to a great and unexpected blessing. Yes, I accomplished what I set out to do, which was to uncover what went wrong in my life. Not only that, but my expectations for this trip turned out to be inferior to how it actually unraveled.  It's clear, as I sit down to write this — the final post of my Nebraska retrospective — God chose to bless me on this trip. But you know what? It wouldn't have happened had I not said that prayer and put it in His hands. While the outcome may have looked obvious to anyone else, to me it did not look obvious. All I knew is I did not want to run afoul of God's plan or timing. That last sentence contains what I have learned in the last 20-plus years since I lived in Nebraska. Things are better left in God's hands than my own.  What went wrong all those years ago? I pushed God out of my life, leaving me to make dreadful decisions which took me far from His care....

The city of Kearney (population about 35,000) represents a "coulda been" for me. It could have been so many things — the town where I attended college, where I made it solid with my girl, where we settled down to live, where we bought our home and brought our children into the world — but, instead, it's a town I hardly know. I remember buying music, some of which I still own today, at the mall and other shops. I remember taking a drum set my brother was getting rid of to a music store in the bricked section of town. I got my wisdom teeth taken out here. After my stint at McCook, I thought I would finish school here, as a lot of my friends were already attending and it was an affordable yet good school. The girl I wanted to be with was already going to school here and, indeed, still lives here. But that didn't happen. Not the school. Not the girl. Not the house or the kids. Not anything. Kearney. What coulda been.  Kearney from Yanney Park. Kearney was my se...