My grandparent's backyard and their dog, Athena.
July 15, 2022 - My Last Summer in Norman
I recently graduated from the University of Oklahoma with a BA in Professional Writing.
Norman, Oklahoma, has been my home for the last four years. But in a few weeks, I’ll have a new home in Austin, Texas.
Nearly all of my fellow graduates have moved on, either back home or to new cities for work. I’m still in Norman, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
Norman and I have had a special relationship. I’d come up here from Houston every now and then with my family to visit my grandparents. My dad, who graduated from OU, loved showing my brother and me around campus, pointing out his favorite spots with a story.
Norman and OU felt like what college was supposed to feel like. The stadium, the fall leaves, the crimson and cream everywhere—it all felt right. Norman isn’t a big city like Houston. It’s a small town that revolves around the college.
So, when I finally came to Norman in 2018, it was exciting to live in the place I’d visited so many times. Of course, I was familiar with Norman landmarks, like Campus Corner, Main Street, and the OU campus. But it was time to discover places I’d never had the chance to see or experience.
When my senior year came to a close a few months ago, I felt my time in Norman coming to an end. People boxed up their apartments. Graduates took photos on campus. And all anyone could talk about was what was next for them.
Understanding my days in Norman were limited, I should have plotted and planned to experience all my untouched parts of town.
But I didn’t. I didn’t care to experience anything new. And for a while, I didn’t know why.
I’ve lived with my grandparents for the last few weeks to bridge the gap between my house in Norman and my apartment in Austin. They love to eat out, especially for breakfast on the weekends.
Their two spots are shoulder-to-shoulder cramped, feel-the-heat-from-the-flatiron-because-it’s-three-feet-away-from-you The Diner and the homely, friendly-staffed Juan del Fuego. They’ve eaten there for what seems like forever and don’t plan on changing their routine anytime soon.
I asked them why they never eat anywhere else. My grandparents said it’s what they like, and they like it every time. They don’t need to try any other places.
Their philosophy reveals a beautiful difference between “living” and “visiting.” When a tourist visits a new place, they want to gobble up every experience they can to get the most out of their trip. So they visit all the museums, restaurants, and shops that Google Maps tells them they should.
But a local sits quietly, sips coffee at their favorite shop, and watches the tourist madly fly by.
I understand now. I’m not a Norman tourist. It’s not a place I’m visiting.
It’s home.
I’ve done, seen, eaten, and experienced everything I wanted to in Norman and at OU. Sure, there are some stones unturned. But those are stones I never really cared to see the other side of, anyway.
It hurts to have that realization a few weeks before I leave for good. It’s much easier to leave a place you’re visiting than a place you call home. But thinking of Norman as just a place I was visiting would be a disservice.
My realization has also opened my eyes to the beauty of what was once mundane to me. The friendly servers at Juan Del Fuego seem kinder. I notice the well-trimmed greens and ornate architecture on OU’s campus more than before.
Knowing something won’t last makes you realize how great it was the whole time.
And so, for my last few weeks in town, I’ll live them the same way I lived the last four years, but with a greater appreciation.
I think that’s the best way to honor a place you call home.