We’ve loved so much about Wichita. Botanica. The zoo. The Warren Theaters. Stearman Field. There are so many unique and wonderful things here, we didn’t have time to do everything on our list. (I never made it to Dodge City, and apparently there's an awesome slide there.)
But it’s not Wichita’s places that we’ll miss most.
It’s the people.
From day one, we felt welcome and wanted. We felt a sense of community that superceded whether we lived on the East side or squinted our way out west.
Sure, the first few months were tough as we acclimated. But it didn’t take long til we found where we belonged. And belong we did. Some weeks, we had so much going on I lamented our popularity (facetiously, of course). But seriously. We stayed busy.
From listening to Condoleeza Rice speak to riding mechanical bulls in an inflatable ring, the memories we made will stay with us the rest of our lives:
- Discovering a giant wiener dog on the front porch.
- Rummaging through a neighbor’s backyard in search of wayward chickens.
- Scheming our way into a VIP event at the casino.
- Staying out half the night to sing along with Garth.
- Getting hypothermia and a concussion during a particularly cold NYE dinner and show.
- Sitting around a fire, talking, laughing and watching our kids play.
It’s true. I still don’t think you pronounce your river’s name correctly. But it’s OK. I’ll give you your quirks.
What I can’t look past is my sorrow at leaving Wichita. You’ve made an indelible impression on my heart and those of Nick and our girls.
I will be forever grateful to everyone who helped make Wichita home for us. I can never thank you enough for allowing us to be a part of your lives.
If even half as many good souls in Louisiana want to be our friends, we’ll be doing alright.