Welcome to Colorado

Crossing a grassy hill in City Park early last evening on my way to my daughter’s house to welcome her brother-in-law, the newest member of my extended family, traveling cross country with his dog. Quite unexpectedly I began to reflect on my presence in this state that has been my home for more than 50 years.

It happened because, ever since I was forced by my dad’s job, to move west away from Seattle east to Philadelphia when I was 16, I’ve been on a campaign to “go West.”

“Not one dime to go west of the Mississippi River,” my dad announced when I was ready for college. I went 500 miles west to Delaware, Ohio. By the time I graduated and married shortly afterwards, I’d convinced my husband-to-be that settling in Ada, Ohio so he could attend law school there, wouldn’t be my #1 choice. “How about the University of Washington in Seattle?” I asked.

He wouldn’t agree go that far, but said “yes” to Colorado where he had fond memories of the mountains he’d driven through at age 14 in a car “borrowed” from his parents, headed alone from his home in Ohio to see a girlfriend in California. No driver’s license, no GPS, just enough money for gas, he made it to his destination and his parents survived the trauma.

We arrived in Boulder late summer 1958 and six years and four kids later settled in Fort Collins. Since that time two brothers, two sisters-in-law and their various offspring have come and gone and come back again, to Colorado. At current count there are three generations and more than two dozen assorted folks with family connections that call Colorado home.

I never made it back to Seattle to live, but it still holds a special place in my heart. Even so, I don’t know of any better place to live than in Colorado.

Welcome to the newest-to-Colorado foursome from New York City who will embark on the adventure of adjusting to life in Telluride. Their dad and their dog have arrived. Mom and the kids come early this week.