{"id":1297,"date":"2014-03-14T03:16:04","date_gmt":"2014-03-14T03:16:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/kandynolesstevens.com\/?p=1297"},"modified":"2014-03-14T03:16:04","modified_gmt":"2014-03-14T03:16:04","slug":"out-here","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/?p=1297","title":{"rendered":"Out here"},"content":{"rendered":"

I live in Minnesota which boasts one major metropolitan area, comprised of many geographically proximal cities.\u00a0 For the rest of us, we live in what is referred to as \u201cout-state\u201d where the numbers of churches and bars are typically equal and where elevators are not what people ride in to go to another floor.\u00a0 According to 2012 census data, \u00a05.379 million people live in the Land of 10,000 Lakes and just shy of 3 million of those live in the \u201cTwin Cities\u201d.\u00a0 For the rest of us not living in the major metro, we are often made to feel . . . well, like chump change.<\/p>\n

This phenomenon even happens within my own family.\u00a0 More than once I have heard, \u201cWhy would we want to go to there?\u201d\u00a0 I have decided that is their loss, not mine as I find these small hamlets some of the best places on earth. But what those \u201cbig city\u201d kids don\u2019t know is how deep a little hometown pride can run.<\/p>\n

While others might think of us as small beans, we are proud to call our corner of the world – home. We know our neighbors, their kids, and even their pets by name. \u00a0Heck, we even know whose crockpot is whose at the church dinners. We watch out for each other\u2019s houses, gather for coffee on a regular basis, share garden produce, complain about the weather and the roads, sometimes both at the same time, and create our own fun.\u00a0 As for that garden produce, I\u2019m not sure if loading someone\u2019s car with extra squashes from overly abundant zucchini vines counts as fun, or just plain shameful.<\/p>\n

We celebrate where we are today and the places of our ancestral homes. We know the origins of the first settlers in every town and village.\u00a0 We can be Irish or Norwegian and still celebrate the joy of aebleskivers with the Danes, tickle our taste buds with polska kielbasa with Poles, or enjoy the meatball supper with the Swedes.\u00a0 Vestiges remain of the divisions along denominational lines, but as time will do, the focus on our faith differences have seemed to lessen as the years passed on.<\/p>\n

While those things are all fine and dandy, nothing compares to the heart and soul of small town living in America where we take care of our own. Few things bring us closer than two that are disparately different \u2013 tragedy and sports.<\/p>\n

I will never forget the words of the Red Cross worker who finally tracked us down in the hospital the night of the bus crash while our son was undergoing surgeries.\u00a0 \u201cAs soon as I heard where you were from, I knew every crockpot in Cottonwood would be on tomorrow.\u201d<\/p>\n

More prophetic words have never been spoken.\u00a0 That\u2019s what we do when the going gets tough: we feed each other \u2013 not just our physical bodies, but also our spirits.\u00a0 We cry, we laugh, we hug, and together, we pick up the pieces.\u00a0 And when the crockpots are quietly simmering away, we crank up the ovens and we bake.\u00a0 We watch legions of little old men dutifully carry Tupperware containers of baked goods to churches and schools.\u00a0 In our case, it was thousands of cupcakes made with love by friends and strangers.<\/p>\n

Over the weekend, we have learned of deaths of young men in two different small towns close to us.\u00a0 For those who walked the journey with us, we remembered the horror of our own losses, how it shook us to our core, and we reached out.\u00a0 We prayed, we offered help as others did for us, and we told them the one thing they most desperately needed to hear \u2013 you will make it through.\u00a0 It won\u2019t be easy, but you will survive<\/i><\/b> because that is what will bring honor to lives gone much too soon<\/b><\/i>.\u00a0 Most importantly, we promised (and we meant it), your children\u2019s lives will not be forgotten.<\/p>\n

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Out here in out-state, our children are the best product we produce.\u00a0 They are the ones that keep the small town hopes and dreams alive.\u00a0 Quite literally, they are our future. No matter what town you hang your hat, it hurts us all when we lose one, and we mourn missing out on how they would have impacted the world.<\/p>\n

Because they are the best we have to the offer, their activities are the ties that bind the fabric of our lives.\u00a0 We cheer, we congratulate, we give pats on the back, and we smile when we say, \u201cWe\u2019ll get \u2018em next time\u201d because we sincerely believe they will.\u00a0 Even though we watched every minute of the game as well the pre- and post-game festivities, we can\u2019t wait to open the local paper (whether it comes out each day or as in most cases, on Wednesdays only). We read about the amazing pass and touchdown run or the incredible buzzer beater shot. Then in every gathering spot, that moment is replayed – countless times.\u00a0 Those are the glory days!<\/p>\n

Of course, we have our favorite teams and colors to root behind, but even those lines can blur together on occasion.\u00a0\u00a0 Don\u2019t get me wrong! If you were to ask a local about their favorite team, a common response would be, \u201cI cheer for the (insert local team) and for anybody playing our number one rival.\u201d\u00a0 \u201cBe True to Your School<\/i>\u201d isn\u2019t just a Beach Boys song around these parts. It is our battle cry, our marching orders until . . . our children get knocked out of the playoffs and the season comes to an end.<\/p>\n

This is where the allegiances reshape and temporary alliances form based on general common sense.\u00a0 We cheer for whatever team are the opponents of who knocked our kids out of the tournament, and then when one victor emerges, we cheer them on. There are some basic loopholes we agree to accept: cheering on a co-worker\u2019s child, rooting for the team whose coach lost their child, and supporting your own children\u2019s friends no matter what school they attend.\u00a0 It\u2019s true what they say about sports and crazy parents, but the corollary is also true. Crazy sports fans produce amazing relationships.\u00a0 Our children have formed lifelong friendships (and by extension so, too, do the parents) through various activities.<\/p>\n

One universal truth appears in the unwritten code among all of us out here in the forgotten fields and dusty small towns.\u00a0 No matter what – if our children or any neighboring town\u2019s children make it to the \u201cdance\u201d, we will cheer like crazy and wish them the best. Collectively our hearts break when it doesn\u2019t end the way we wanted.<\/p>\n

I am not a betting girl, but if I were, I would put my money down on the kids who come from the towns that may, or may not, have a stoplight; the same towns that close up shop for the state tournament because it matters that much.\u00a0 I would wager that all their parents will be just fine too \u2013 whether facing hardship or glory.<\/p>\n

We are spirited.\u00a0 We are resilient.\u00a0 We remember what matters.<\/p>\n

We are small town, but never small in heart and soul.<\/p>\n

We take care of our own.<\/em><\/p>\n

That, my friends, is a blessing beyond measure.<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I live in Minnesota which boasts one major metropolitan area, comprised of many geographically proximal cities.\u00a0 For the rest of us, we live in what is referred to as \u201cout-state\u201d where the numbers of churches and bars are typically equal and where elevators are not what people ride in to go to another floor.\u00a0 According […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[2],"tags":[911,675,64,136,209,912,913,412,914,516,569,801,915,916,917,918],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1297"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1297"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1297\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1297"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1297"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.realsweetgrace.com\/blog\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1297"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}