Closer to Home

Picture it: It's 1998 and my father is on the heart transplant list. In order to reach St. Mary's swiftly when he receives the call, I’m looking for employment near Minneapolis. Parked in front of our apartment in Evanston, Wyoming is a 1994 Chevy Cavalier with a million miles on it and no air conditioning. It's the end of June.

After searching for jobs in Minnesota, South Dakota, Iowa, and Nebraska, I participate in several phone interviews from across the area. Eventually, I receive an offer to interview for the position of MS English teacher at Brownell Talbot Preparatory School in Omaha. I can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation when I contemplate the opportunity to join the well-respected institution known for its commitment to academic excellence. In the days leading up to the interview, I thoroughly research the school's mission and educational philosophy, reflecting on how my teaching experiences and passion for fostering a love of literature align with their core values. I also curate a list of thoughtful questions to engage the interviewers, hoping to demonstrate my genuine interest in the school's community and its approach to nurturing young minds. As the interview time approaches, I remind myself to breathe, focus on communicating my enthusiasm for teaching, and share specific examples from my past experiences—each anecdote will clearly punctuate how I can contribute to the growth and success of my future students at Brownell Talbot.

As I hang up the phone after an invigorating interview with the Headmaster at Brownell, a wave of excitement washes over me, mingling with a hint of disbelief — I have succeeded! The prospect of a 12-hour journey looms ahead, but the thrill of this new opportunity propels me into action. I meticulously pack my car, sliding in my essentials with precision: a well-worn road atlas; a cooler full of water; snacks that range from salty chips to an indulgent stash of dark chocolate; and a case full of my favorite tapes, each song selected to fuel my motivation and stir anticipation for the future. As I load up my trusty Cavalier with the urgency of a new chapter beginning, I feel a mix of nostalgia and excitement, knowing that this journey is not just about covering miles, but also about embracing change and the unexpected opportunities that lay ahead at BT.

Setting off from Evanston early in the morning is a strategic choice, especially during the sweltering heat of late June, when the sun's relentless rays can turn a simple drive into an uncomfortable ordeal. The quiet early hours cast a serene blanket over the flat highway, and the cool breeze flowing through the open windows is invigorating. Within minutes the landscape transitions from the charming suburban sights of Evanston to the expansive vistas that define the Midwest. Without the luxury of air conditioning, I rely on the rhythm of the journey to keep me alert and sipping ice-cold water to keep me from melting. The quiet hum of the tires on asphalt blends with my favorite playlist, creating the perfect soundtrack for reflection and adventure. As the sun climbs higher, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I am grateful for the decision to rise with the dawn while bracing for the scorching heat ahead.

By the time I reach Rawlins, the sun hangs high in a cloudless sky, casting a relentless heat that seems to shimmer over the asphalt, distorting the horizon into a wavering mirage. The oppressive warmth wraps around me like a heavy blanket, each breath laden with the weariness of a long journey. I guzzle water from yet another plastic bottle, the cool liquid a temporary reprieve against the arid air that clings to my throat. It's a constant battle against dehydration; every few miles, I stop at a gas station or diner, hastily using what feels like every bathroom along the route. Each pit stop is a momentary sanctuary where I can soak in the cool air conditioning, feel the refreshing splash of water on my face, and watch the world outside as the heat radiates waves through the shimmering light. As I step back outside, the sun hits me again, reminding me that the road ahead is long.

Following what has turned into a grueling 14-hour journey, I finally arrive at my Aunt Rosie’s house in Bellevue, NE, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling heavily on my shoulders. The air is thick with humidity, and as I step out of the car, the late evening sun floods the neighborhood in a golden glow. Sweat trickles down my back, and my mind buzzes with the remnants of the long drive—tunes fading in and out, the monotonous hum of the highway, and the bazillion pit stops that did little to rejuvenate my spirits or cool my body. Yet, a wave of relief washes over me as I ring the bell on Aunt Rosie’s front porch, her vibrant flowers blooming in welcome, sending sweet, floral scents into the air. I can already envision the soothing coolness of her living room, a glass of ice-cold lemonade in hand, and the comforting chatter that will soon fill the space. The journey had been an odyssey of sorts, but the promise of family, food, and familiar affection beckons, coaxing me to shake off the fatigue and embrace the welcome of Aunt Rosie’s home.

Although it’s after seven, my aunt and uncle prepare a feast to welcome me to their home. Uncle John takes center stage at the grill, expertly seasoning marinated chicken breasts with a medley of herbs and spices that fill the air with mouthwatering aromas. The sizzle of the chicken hitting the hot grill creates an irresistible symphony, while the flames dance playfully, hinting at the delectable flavors to come. Meanwhile, Aunt Rosie is busy in the kitchen, skillfully tossing together a vibrant salad that bursts with colors from ripe tomatoes, crunchy cucumbers, and leafy greens, all drizzled with a tangy vinaigrette that promises to elevate the meal. To complement the feast, she squeezes fresh lemons into a pitcher, transforming them into refreshing lemonade, its bright yellow hue mirroring the cheerful atmosphere of the evening. As I pull up to the table, anticipation builds, fueled by the delicious scents wafting through the air, setting the stage for a delightful dinner filled with laughter, love, and the enjoyment of simple, home-cooked goodness.

By the time the clock strikes ten, I find myself sinking into the soft embrace of Aunt Rosie's comfortable spare bed, the familiar scent of lavender wafting through the air, a soothing reminder of her meticulous nature. The room, warmly lit and decorated with family photographs, wraps me in a sense of security and nostalgia, perfect for that coveted good rest before my interview in the morning. As I pull the cozy blanket up to my chin, I can’t help but reflect on the whirlwind of emotions swirling in my mind—excitement, nervousness, and a dash of self-doubt. I know that this opportunity could be a steppingstone toward my dreams, and I remind myself of the hours spent preparing, the mock interviews, and the research into the school that has ignited my passions. I close my eyes, allowing the gentle hum of the air conditioner to lull me into a serene state, hoping to awaken refreshed and ready to seize the day, my heart set on getting the job and moving to Omaha.

In the morning, as the first rays of sunlight breach the horizon, I awaken with a mix of excitement and nerves, ready to embrace a pivotal day ahead. I begin my routine with a refreshing shower, the water cascading over me like a gentle waterfall, washing away any lingering traces of sleep and enveloping me in a sense of invigoration. Stepping out, I slip into my impeccably tailored navy-blue suit, a symbol of professionalism and confidence, which not only fits perfectly but also accentuates my assurance in the face of what’s to come. After carefully applying makeup, I move toward Aunt Rosie's kitchen to savor the hearty breakfast she has prepared for me—scrambled eggs lightly seasoned, crisp bacon, and a slice of whole-grain toast topped with homemade jam. After a reassuring hug from my aunt, I head out the door, feeling the thrill of anticipation as I slide into my car. The drive to the interview is filled with a blend of thoughts while I navigate the unfamiliar streets of Omaha. I don't dare open the windows and mess up my hair, so I have the vents open wide in an attempt to stay cool during the twenty-minute drive to Brownell Talbot.

Finally, I pull into the school's parking lot, the impressive facade of Worthington Hall looming before me, its historical charm sending a wave of both excitement and intimidation coursing through me. Taking a deep breath, I adjust my collar and put on my jacket, although I am already sweating profusely in the unairconditioned car. As I step out of the car, I take a moment to collect my thoughts, rehearsing my answers in my mind, and mentally visualizing a successful interview. Determined to get this job so I can be near enough to reach Dad when he gets a new heart, I stride toward the entrance, ready to embrace the opportunity that awaits, the grand building symbolizing the academic journey ahead.

The moment I step through the towering doors of Worthington Hall, I feel the atmosphere shift. The cool air-conditioned breeze greets me like a refreshing wave, easing my nerves. I introduce myself to the secretary sitting behind the front desk before I sit in a wooden chair in the quiet waiting area. While I wait, I glance around at the portraits of distinguished alumni adorning the walls. Each face seems to whisper stories of perseverance and success, serving as a reminder that I, too, belong to this lineage of dreamers and achievers. Finally, the principal enters the room to take me to the conference room. I rise from my seat, heart racing with a mixture of excitement and determination.

With friendly smiles, the interview panel greets me, and as I express my enthusiasm for education and my goals, I notice their interest intensifying. The conversation unfolds effortlessly, and I realize I am answering with a sincerity and excitement I hadn't recognized in myself before. I mention the educators from my past who motivated me to enter the teaching profession, along with my commitment to positively impact students' lives.

As the interview draws to a close, the panel suddenly shifts their focus, engaging in quiet murmurs before one of them leans forward, smiling warmly. “We’re impressed with your vision and commitment. We believe you would be a great fit for our school.” The words sink in slowly, the weight of their meaning crashing over me like a wave. I can hardly believe it—after months of relentless job searching and uncertainty, this opportunity could change everything.

Stepping back outside, the sun seems to shine brighter, reflecting my euphoric mood. I take a deep breath, letting it all sink in, and for the first time in weeks, I allow myself to envision a hopeful future where I live closer to my parents!

Returning to Aunt Rosie’s, I walk into a scene of warmth and comfort. She and Uncle John are laughing and chatting in the family room, and the familiar sound envelops me like a hug. “How did it go?” Aunt Rosie asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I think it went really well,” I reply, my voice filled with buoyancy.

Before I change out of my suit, I ask to use her phone to call my parents. When my dad answers, I tell him about the interview, and I can hear pride and hope in his response. We also discuss his progress on the transplant list, and for the first time in a long while, I feel a sense of optimism radiate through the phone.

That night, as I lay in bed, my thoughts drift to the future. I don’t know what lies ahead, but I feel a surge of renewed strength. I realize that even amidst the chaos of life’s uncertainties—my father’s health, the challenge of moving, starting a new job—family and hope will always guide me through. I close my eyes with a smile, comforted by the knowledge that this journey, like all true journeys, is about growth, resilience, and the unbreakable bonds of love. Whatever comes next, I’m ready to face it, united with my family, heart full of purpose, and armed with dreams that are firmly within reach.