My dear friend and boss at The Belmont, Hamid, knew what I was planning. My plan to relocate was a yearlong process and once my mind was made up, I found it difficult to keep my plans to myself. In January 2019, I told Ham my plans and that I would like to quit my job in May. The spring rolled on with highlights like SXSW to plan and prepare for so there was no shortage of work to keep me focused until then, but finally, the end of April had arrived. May was perfectly timed with the end of the month falling on a Friday. May 31st was to be my last day of gainful employment in the United States. I was itching to get a move on, so when I asked my boss if I could cut out one day earlier on the 30th he was happy to oblige. I had done a stellar job of neatly wrapping up all of my tasks, then exactly as it was planned there was a returning of the keys to the building, macarons to celebrate and hugs all around.

Saying goodbye to Austin was the easy part but saying goodbye to the people I love proved exponentially more difficult. Modern conveniences like FaceTime, WhatsApp and Skype make it easy to stay in touch, but sometimes you just want to be in the same literal space with someone you love — you want to breathe the same air with the sun in the same position. Being 12-14 hours in the future on the other side of the world can present some challenges. Knowing that I would not be returning home for an extended period I took the time to enjoy the people that I love the most before leaving.

In June I planned a month long sayonara journey around Texas and the United States to love on the people most important to me and allow myself to be loved on as well. Sayonara is Japanese and literally means “if it is to be that way.” And it was to be that way. I was ready to return to Asia to satisfy the longing that had begun burning in my soul from the moment I had previously left. No matter the feelings I had about those I would leave behind, it had to be this way.

With my extra free day off work I began my June journey on May 31st instead of June 1st and headed to Houston to visit with my dear friend Crystal. Crystal was the first person I had told of my plan to relocate, and she had been the captain of my cheerleading squad all along the way. Crystal and I had met my first year living in Austin and over my 7+ years of knowing her she became the strongest relationship I built while there. Crystal had moved from Austin back to her native Houston about 4 years after we met and contrary to what typically happens, it seemed to just strengthen our friendship. We stayed in close contact, traveled internationally together and she frequently visited Austin. However, I had only ever visited her in Houston once, and it was time to do that again.

Crystal showed me around Houston like a proper local. I arrived pretty late on that Thursday night, so stayed in at her home for the first night. The following day, she took me to coffee at her favorite local spot then we spent the rest of our morning at The Museum of Fine Arts for a special Van Gogh exhibit. If you haven’t spent much time in Houston, it is important to note the massive size of Houston’s museum district. It is the second largest in the United States, coming in just short of the size of the Smithsonian in Washington D.C. and it is very much worth more than one day of visiting.

After the museum we then checked in to the Marriott Marquis in downtown Houston. It has a new Texas shaped lazy river pool on the roof. Obviously, a must do for any die-hard Texan before leaving home for an extended period. We spent most of our time sunning by the pool. I was determined to develop a nice base layer tan before moving to the beach. However, that did not go exactly as planned and I developed a more lobster inspired hue. Once I had been thoroughly cooked, we stopped by for hug with Crystal’s mom and spent the rest of the day on an Insta worthy tour of Houston hot-spots. Throughout the entire 3 days we spent time talking about my big plans for Asia, her big plans for career change and the lives we want to curate for ourselves.

I find that as an adult, building friendships can be difficult. As a child, you sit with others in a classroom daily and are encouraged to work together on group projects and spend time together at lunch, sport and elective activities. Once we leave school, we spend so much time focused on our own goals and even just basic needs/survival that connecting with others can be relegated to something that we do when it is convenient. I was lucky to have created some lasting bonds with others during my near decade spent in Austin, but if my friendship with Crystal was the only relationship I found myself taking away from my time there, I would consider myself blessed beyond description.

After my trip to Houston I returned home to Austin to recharge for a couple of days and attend my yoga teacher training classes. After a quick couple of days back home it was time to set off again. This time I was headed to Yankee country, the farthest I would travel in my farewell tour. One would not think a trip to Pennsylvania would be such an adventure, but it wasn’t just a jump on and off a plane kind of trip. I had some guns that I needed to deal with. Guns don’t really travel well when relocating to Southeast Asia and it seemed irresponsible to put them in the storage unit I had rented. They belonged to my father and for sentimental reasons I did not want to sell them. My cousin, being an avid sport shooter and responsible gun owner seemed like he could provide a perfect home for them. So, I loaded up my cargo and set out to drive to Pennsylvania — me, my guns and plenty of downloaded Oprah’s Super Soul podcasts.

My cousin had ventured to Pennsylvania many years prior for work. He met a wonderful woman and they married. She returned to Texas with him after his work obligations were finished. I had been living back in Wichita Falls at the time my cousin and his family were there and had very much enjoyed spending time with them and watching their family grow. During their time back in Texas they grew their family to include two children, one of whom I had never met due to my having relocated to Austin and them relocating to Odessa. A short time after their youngest was born they returned to Pennsylvania so they could be closer to family. I wanted the opportunity to meet their son and hug them a few more times.

I hadn’t been to Pennsylvania since I was 13 years old and time had worn any memory, I had of my last trip pretty thin. In retrospect, I am not sure what I expected, but with street names like Auction Barn Road and Wagon Wheel Lane I felt like I was still (clap, clap, clap, clap) Deep in the Heart of Texas. Being from Texas home state pride has never been anything I have lacked. We have state mandated Texas History class in both 4th grade and 7th grade. We often consider our beautiful and diverse state as God’s country, but my time in Pennsylvania gave my view of that a run for its money.

With the constant threat of drought in Texas I had never before seen such amazing expanses of lush green. The Hill Country is beautiful and far greener than my hometown in North Texas, but nothing I’ve seen in the Texas countryside can compare. Pennsylvania is the original heartland. It appears that you could grow anything your heart might desire in the rolling green hills. To help drive that point home the landscapes are dotted with farmhouses, silos, and ever present American flags.

We visited a local country fair and market. It was full of food and wares made my local artisans. The Amish donuts we ate are something I will not soon forget. You haven’t truly had a maple donut until you have had one handmade and iced before your own eyes. I also tried poutine for the first time. If you are not familiar, it is a dish that includes French fries and cheese curds topped with a brown gravy. In my humble opinion, it is a delicacy better left to the Yankees, but at least I can say I have tried it. I attended my niece’s soccer game, ate freshly preserved peppers grown on my cousin’s farm and enjoyed the experience of homemade pierogis which I was informed were a delicacy of the region. I found them far better than the poutine.

On my cross-country Pennsylvania adventure, I stayed the night in Memphis both coming and going. I arrived in Memphis the first time just early enough to catch the last tour of Sun Studio. The legendary location where Elvis and Johnny Cash started their careers. I was amazed at the history housed in the small space. I stood where Elvis had recorded and sat on the stool where U2 drummer, Larry Mullen, sat to record portions of the album Rattle and Hum.

I was amazed by the story of Sun Studio founder Sam Phillips. They may have recorded Elvis, The King of Rock and Roll, but that wasn’t the only king in the midst. Phillips was the king of hustle. He got his start recording anything and everything he could get someone to pay him to record. From Christmas Day festivities, Baptist church quartets to the Miss Memphis Pageant 1950, Phillips was ready to imprint your special occasion onto vinyl. He then grew his little mobile recording business, Memphis Recording and Sound Services, into the Sun Studio that is still churning out hits and nostalgia today. I found his story of hard work far more inspirational than any of the hits I heard playing in the background during my tour.

While a short stopover on my larger trip, this time in Memphis boosted my confidence in my choice to relocate to Vietnam. I have always appreciated solo travel and the ability to do what I want with my time without any constraints, opinions or needs of others and in Memphis I did just that.

On my return through Memphis, I spent my extra time touring the Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel. The museum is like walking through a collegiate level course on the Civil Right Movement brought to life. The exhibits are so well done. The museum has collected an incredible amount of history and displayed it in a respectful, informative and sensitive way. I was both incredibly moved and educated in the short two and a half hours I had to explore before closing time. I have already added the museum onto my list of things I wish to do when I return home for a visit. I was unable to give the exhibits the attention they deserved.

I had asked my Uber drivers and various locals I encountered on both sides of my time in Memphis where I should go to experience the best of Memphis BBQ and came to the conclusion that if I was only going to enjoy one location that it had to be Central BBQ. It just so happened that they had a location directly caddy corner to the museum. Being from Texas I pride myself in knowing a thing or two about BBQ, but Memphis is one of those few places outside of Texas that professes to do it right. I was not disappointed. I sampled a bit of everything on the menu and I can honestly say that they give Aaron Franklin a run for his money. I didn’t even have to stand in the line because I was taking my order to-go. This certainly earned the spot bonus points in my eyes.

I finished my last night in Memphis on the famous Beale Street — home to some of the most legendary blues in the world. Beale certainly rivaled the experiences I have had on East 6th Street in Austin. Live music poured from each local dive out into the street. The heartfelt sounds at some spots beckoned me to stop and sit awhile and others garnered just a quick pop-in. After a few drinks and a few photo ops, I left Beale with a music filled soul and an empty belly ready to be filled again with the leftover BBQ at my hotel.

After my cross-country journey, I again returned to Austin for more yoga and a little downtime. My next trip would be short, but so very sweet. I was going to see my mom. She had already come to Austin to see me a couple of times that spring and summer, and I promised her I would go see her one last time before leaving even if it was a short visit. There isn’t much to do in her home of Kerens, Texas, population 1,573, so the time was far more quality and quiet than quantity and excitement.

While I was there, we went out on the local lake for a fishing trip with her husband’s family, but most of our time was spent making jam. It has always been our favorite thing to do together. We make a good jamming team. Just like a mom, she does all the jobs I don’t want to do — the dirty and boring ones. She cleans and preps the fruit, measures the sugar and washes the dishes. I stir, deal with the boiling of the jars and carefully ladle the scalding hot jam into the sterilized jars. We have been doing it long enough that we work seamlessly together. I have made hundreds of jars of jam without her, but it is never quite as enjoyable alone.

She wanted to make jars for the teachers at her school to welcome them back that fall, so we made 30+ jars of peach for them. We also made more peach to share with friends and family. We made strawberry, blackberry, mixed berry and my favorite triple berry. We were jammin’ fools! I left my stockpots and jamming equipment with her when I left. Even though she hasn’t yet, I am sure she will use them on her own while I am gone and when this happens, I fully expect my heart to ache with sadness. However, I think the near 100 jars of jam we made that weekend were enough to satisfy my jam making desires for quite some time.

I once again rolled back into Austin, this time with 50 jars of jam in the back of my car for a recharge and some yoga teacher training. My June summer of love fest was well planned on paper, but it was a bit exhausting in reality. I had one stop left to go — home.

There is no place like home. I had spent close to the last decade of my time in Texas in the great capital of Austin, but the small red-dirt city of Wichita Falls in north central Texas will always be my home. It is where I grew up, started and completed school and where I returned to after my father passed. It is the place where I know I can always go to see the people who know where I came from and know where I am going. It will always be the place where I can go to find a complete enveloping of comfort. Quite fittingly, this was the last stop on my June journey. I ended where I had begun.

I spent a week with the people who knew me before I was me. People I shared experience with since before we could talk or even remember. There is no greater feeling. We have all grown up since we started out. My old friends have husbands and children, they own businesses and are members of the Junior League, but we celebrated like we were kids again. We went out to the same bars we used to sneak into before we were 21 without any fear of consequence at this point in our lives. We laughed, cried and reminisced. Without these people I would not have become who I am today.

While in Asia, I will miss baby showers, babies born, graduations, weddings, promotions, funerals, milestones and occasions both good and bad. However, there is comfort. It is the kind of comfort that allows me to spread my wings and fly wherever my heart desires while still knowing that no matter where I go or what I do there will always be so many places for me to call home in Texas. There are people here with whom I could couch surf my way back to life in the United States for a solid half a year without even a hint of inconvenience. These are not the types of relationships you build over months or even years. These relationships are built over a lifetime.

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