We have been dating for two weeks.

My parents want me to visit. I just saw my mother a few weeks ago. But since moving to the Pacific Northwest about 6 years before, I had only been home maybe three times. This was primarily due to financial constraints. The fact that my parents moved 4 hours away from the town I grew up in shortly after I moved was an added complication.

My mom had a plane ticket voucher from a prior trip where there was a layover debacle. The voucher was set to expire in about 6 weeks. I wasn’t particularly motivated to go home – I had a lot going on but, it seemed unforgivably wasteful to let the voucher expire.

“My parents want me to come home, so I think I am going to fly to Wisconsin at the end of June for a few days.”

“That sounds like fun. I love to travel. I have never been to Wisconsin. That’s like…in the middle-ish somewhere right? We should go together!”

Man she is weird. What are my parents going to think? My ex hasn’t even actually filed for divorce and I am bringing someone home to meet them? It’s weird. But…we can travel together without being in a super serious relationship. She can meet my parents without it being all dramatic. We are dating, she is fun, it would be great to spend time together.

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We are flying to Minneapolis on Sun Country, a Minnesota based airline. When the flight attendant began announcements over the intercom I thought maybe Anji had seen a Leprechaun or some other creature of legend. But, no, she was just so excited about the strength and density of the attendant’s mid-west accent. This is her first trip to the mid-west and oh yea, you betcha, she’s pumped. She giggles, “It’s like another language! The Overhead compartment, ‘eh? Haha! I’m getting it! That was pretty good der ‘eh??”

My parents meet us at the airport. We get in their car. Not 45 seconds into the drive my dad says, “Gee whiz Anji, did you fart?!” Anji – thankfully – laughs and teases him right back. She is holding her own against one of the most aggressive jokesters to ever joke. I’m mostly grateful that she is holding her own but I also worry I might be surrounded.

I can tell that my parents like her as quickly as I did. Suddenly it isn’t quite so weird that I brought her to meet them. They can see why I am so drawn to her.

We introduce Anji to the butter burger and frozen custard, cheese curds and there are, of course, casseroles. My family and, almost everyone I know back home does not actually call them hot dishes, for the record. Although there was a local group called the Hot Dish Mafia. Perhaps because Casserole Mafia doesn’t sound as serious? Not sure.

We stop at a grocery store. “Whaaaaat is this? What is happening here? What…Is…Is this an aisle of only cheese? There is an aisle of only cheese! … Why is everyone wearing a Packer jersey? It’s Tuesday and…June.” Anji is having some serious cultural experiences on this trip.

The trip is jam packed. We visit the Mississippi River, the Bluffs near La Crosse, my parents drive us to Bayfield and back (4.5 hours each way) the day after we arrived. That’s just how my parents roll. We are all about production. We want measurable outcomes dammit. So we log miles and check off landmarks. My parents are determined to show her the entire state. So of course, we head to Wisconsin Dells – 3 hours round trip. If we had stayed another day I have no doubt there would have been an up-at-3am-to-drive-to-House-on-the-Rock trip.

Anji and I drove up to the Twin Ports, where I grew up. Logging another 5 hours in the car. We have lunch at the resturaunt where I had my first job busing tables. I tried to wait tables but it wasn’t my strong suit. There were a lot of complaints about my failure to bring the salad before the entree’. Or…even with the entree’. I have accepted that waiting tables will never be a strong suit of mine.

We drive around Congdon – the PNW lacks the grand mansions that cover the hillside here. The architecture is breathtaking. We stop by the college campus. It is summer so all is quiet. We walk through the halls but, there is really nothing to see. The beautiful Weber Music Hall is locked. It becomes apparent that the romance of this time was more deeply connected to the people than the actual buildings.

We meet a friend of mine (see Perkins) at the local pizza shop, named for the University mascot. We have been horrible about keeping in touch but the upside is there is much to catch up on.

There are so many aspects about living so far from home that I didn’t consider when I moved away. One of them is how strange it is to spend time only with people I just met, or have only known a short time. The difference in relationship depth is apparent now. Not that the other relationships are shallow, but these relationships serve a different purpose. It was something I had been lacking. The value of a friend reflecting a younger version of myself… it was something I hadn’t really experienced before. I am grateful to be here now. I am glad I came home.

By the end of our too short lunch together, she too is sending in her membership request form for Anji’s fan club.

We drive past the music conservatory. We have coffee in East Duluth and walk to The Rose Garden. We walk around Leif Erikson Park and along the boardwalk that nestles up to the shore of Lake Superior with another friend I hadn’t seen in years. This friend…well, she deserves her own post. I’ll link back to it when I write it.

Anji dares to wade into the frigid water and marvels at a lake so large you cannot see the other shore. It’s a moment I would write into our wedding song.

We walk to Fitgers – such a beautiful city. The milkshake place is annoyingly not open – it is the middle of summer – why is it not open? Yes it is only 60 degrees but, that’s near peak for this area.

We make time to experience the Clayton Jackson McGhie Memorial – the construction of which had only started the last time I was here. It commemorates the horrible consequences of acting without evidence. The danger of mistaking popular opinion for truth. The toll of bias.

Anji and I continue to talk about the memorial itself, the event it commemorates, what it says about human nature trying to find the opportunities for impact.

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The next morning Anji and I oversleep a bit. We have a jam packed agenda.

I learn a very valuable lesson about my future life partner that day: Anji is adventurous and strong and capable and amazing. But never tell her there is no time to shower. No shower = crying.

So…my girlfriend is crying and I’m like, “whaaaaat is happening right now?” “But, I … I have to shower. I love showering and… I’m going to meet the rest of your family and… I just want to shower. I am so tired.”

“Anji – I get that. I want to honor that. You know what is better than showering? Amazing Grace Cafe’. Come on. We gotta go.”

I feel bad but I know I need to visit this cafe’ while we are in town. Did she have to leave her comfort zone? Yes. Was she rewarded with a scone? Also yes. Was it the best scone ever created? You betcha.

There is one more stop before heading back to my parents’. I try to never be in Wisconsin without making time for this person. I also try to bring pie from that cafe in Bloomer. Because good friendship deserves good pie.

Since we have seen one another, so very much has changed. She has children I have never met – they are now both school age. Where has the time gone?

It seems not so long ago that I sat in her classroom. A room which seemed larger than the rest… or perhaps the teacher was just smaller.

The time we now spend together moves at the same too-fast-pace that has brought us from middle school to this moment. We stay longer than we intend to. There is much comfort here. Too soon we are saying goodbye. Yet even in this short time, the warmth that has grown between Anji and my friend is clear.

We are going to be late for the family dinner. In the mid-west, late simply isn’t done. Rather than beginning with conversation and drinks, dinner back home means that my mother has timed everything perfectly to be served at the start time. The start time is the time we must all be in our seats. My mother has made food out of pure love and dammit – it will be served on time.

To this day I’m not sure if my mother inviting the entire family was so they could all see me, and I them – it had been several years. Or if they had actually been invited to meet Anji.

Regardless, the moment we walked in the door Anji disappeared. I thought, “My god, this is how it ends. Not only are we late but Anji has failed to prioritize sitting at the table immediately. Girlfriends cannot recover from this type of perceived slight.” Midwest mothers will not stand for this. The casserole is getting cold.

Turns out Anji was taking that shower she was so desperate for. And though even later than unforgivably late, her warmth and openness, her kindness, her intelligence won over the room in a matter of minutes. I could overhear the relatives remarking how much they “like that Anji girl.”

The phone calls with my mother following this visit often consisted of her listing all the people who really liked Anji. And that was a really good thing because, though it had only been a handful of weeks, I couldn’t resist beginning to plan our lives together.

In mid-August, only 3 months after our first date, we rented a U-Haul.