Farewell, 'simply' North Idaho

This is typically a research-based column space, meant to make little reference to anything personal.

Not today.

As you read this, we’re cleaning an empty house which is no longer ours. The Pod with our meager belongings is gone, and tomorrow morning, we’ll no longer be Kootenai County residents. After 23 years of Idaho life.

That feels so weird.

This isn’t what we’d planned. We thought we’d get old and die here. Having fallen in love with the geography, invested ourselves deeply in the community, volunteered and worked and befriended so many … Leave? Uh-uh.

If anything, that affection and pull have only intensified since announcing our departure. Literally hundreds of friends and readers and strangers and colleagues have blessed us with outpourings of caring, complimentary and humbling sentiments that still make us cry.

How lucky we have been. How lucky we are.

But you see, there’s this brand-new grandbaby in Florida and work-from-home kids who need us. That’s the big motivator and the timing. But it’s not the only reason we’re giving up this gorgeous place and so many people we care about, hitting the road to another overcrowded, humid place we are admittedly not too excited about (on the brink of hurricane season no less).

This isn’t the North Idaho we’ve known and loved. It’s changing in unexpected ways. I don’t believe it’s permanent, but it’s worth mentioning, because it affects you.

The hubby and I have lived in many states between us. None so kind as Idaho — until recently. Until about two years ago, friendly was a given. Smiles and cooperation among strangers. Kindnesses offered unasked.

That was simply North Idaho.

Disagree? Fine, but that won’t keep casseroles away from the sick or a lent hand when a neighbor could obviously use one.

That was simply North Idaho.

Republican, Democrat, independent or unaware — that didn’t change a thing. Religious uniformity not required. Yes, the country has changed, but believe you me, not like it has here. There is just a whole different ilk taking over. A physically aggressive, rude, loud and don’t-give-a-darn-what-you-want ilk.

That simply wasn’t North Idaho. And as North Idahoans (the longtime and multi-generation ones especially) tell me, their home doesn’t feel like home anymore.

Folks, whether you’re old or new, as we depart we hope you’ll consider a return to “simply North Idaho,” the place you fell in love with, whether that was a year ago or 25. Kindness. Reliability of neighbors, differences aside. Whatever your politics or preferences, don’t change this place from the “simply North Idaho” you came to be part of, or have enjoyed your whole life.

Don’t let the snarls and yelling and bullying tactics change your intent to be kind and “simply North Idaho” the way we used to be. We behave and adhere to our own ethics; they aren’t ours if we let others change them.

Kindness always wins; that’s why I don’t believe this change is permanent. Deep down, people are generally good. Our instincts are to connect with one another, so divides can’t last because divided societies always fall. But how long it takes to narrow a divide depends entirely on the actions we take to accelerate it, by starting with ourselves and adhering to that ethic.

If you’re one of those who’ve been reading our columns, articles and editorials, thank you. We’ll be writing from afar for a while, and even when that ends someday, we will always feel connected to this place and its people. We will always be grateful for our experiences here, and for you.

Meanwhile, fare thee well, North Idaho. And please, take care of each other again. Whether or not we like to admit it, we need one another.

Practicing kindness doesn’t just benefit one and all, it’s simply North Idaho.

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Sholeh Patrick is a heart-sick columnist who will miss North Idaho but is kind of excited about the giant reptiles and tropical thunderstorms. Just not the roaches. Email Sholeh@cdapress.com.