I plan to retire in Oklahoma...my home state. I wasn't born there but it was where I went from being a boy to a man. It is where I became a husband and father. So as a product of the Ozarks, I have learned to embrace my inner Okie!
Oklahoma is a state that seems to always be available and willing. It has a great beauty if you can learn to appreciate it. Its graveyards are full of veterans, farmers and ranchers...people of the earth. Those who have learned to love a handful of dirt that they can call their own. People there are friendly and willing to assist you in your humble pilgrimage of becoming an "Okie".
I love Oklahoma. Every time I pass through Roosevelt, I stop by the cemetery and visit old friends and family that have passed away. Many who had given me good advice in my youth that naturally I dismissed due to my immature ambitions, but still they cared enough to give it. And today I know they were right. I see names that I know and many that I don't, but they are all a part of my past, part of my history that is linked to them in some distant but real way. On my last visit, I was instantly hit by the wind. As soon as I opened the car door it was like an old friend welcoming me home. There are times when I wonder why I left.
I know my home state will never match the majesty of Colorado or the ruggedness of Utah. I know I may not see colors there as vibrant as those in New England in the Fall, with its red, purple and golden sugar maples, but the Autumn colors of Eastern Oklahoma sure come close. The Sooner State has a quiet, unassuming selfless beauty with its winter wheat and people who still wave at you as you drive down the road. To me, Oklahoma is OK. The clock seems to tick slower there.
I plan to retire in Oklahoma, mostly because I just feel more welcomed there.
Oklahoma is a state that seems to always be available and willing. It has a great beauty if you can learn to appreciate it. Its graveyards are full of veterans, farmers and ranchers...people of the earth. Those who have learned to love a handful of dirt that they can call their own. People there are friendly and willing to assist you in your humble pilgrimage of becoming an "Okie".
I love Oklahoma. Every time I pass through Roosevelt, I stop by the cemetery and visit old friends and family that have passed away. Many who had given me good advice in my youth that naturally I dismissed due to my immature ambitions, but still they cared enough to give it. And today I know they were right. I see names that I know and many that I don't, but they are all a part of my past, part of my history that is linked to them in some distant but real way. On my last visit, I was instantly hit by the wind. As soon as I opened the car door it was like an old friend welcoming me home. There are times when I wonder why I left.
I know my home state will never match the majesty of Colorado or the ruggedness of Utah. I know I may not see colors there as vibrant as those in New England in the Fall, with its red, purple and golden sugar maples, but the Autumn colors of Eastern Oklahoma sure come close. The Sooner State has a quiet, unassuming selfless beauty with its winter wheat and people who still wave at you as you drive down the road. To me, Oklahoma is OK. The clock seems to tick slower there.
I plan to retire in Oklahoma, mostly because I just feel more welcomed there.
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