Oh, I'll Never Leave Montana Brother
Effects of Screen Time on Adult Sleep. That was the title of the article that appeared before me. I chose not to investigate any further. I was confident that my current habits were contradictory to the author’s recommendations. Just one more thing that’s going to kill me...sooner. So I continued scrolling my Facebook feed in bed as is my nightly routine after tucking in all the kiddos. Then, wedged between the meme’s, hashtags, and emoji’s a lone status rose into view. It was the status of my senior class president announcing that on this day 18 years ago we graduated from high school in 1999 (RIP Prince). Meaning that we were crossing the threshold of time signifying our being out of school longer than we were in school.
I threw it back to 1999, let’s keep it there for a minute. I grew up in very close-knit community in Northern Arizona. The type of place that was so small that everyone was considered a neighbor and treated as such. Now, in addition to it being very small, there were a lot of Miller’s there, a lot. In fact, sometimes just for fun my High School Basketball Coach would start 5 Miller boys just to mess around with the announcer. I often joke that I couldn’t date any of the young ladies in town seeing as they were most likely a relative of some kind.
Every Sunday at 4:30 pm there was and still is a gathering of Miller’s. This affair has the generic title of “Miller Party.” I don’t get home as often as I would like but if I could only make it home for one day I would want it to be Sunday so I could be present for this event. The central activity is the playing of Rook, a team based card game, while the periphery contains pick-up basketball games and the churning of home-made ice cream. It was here that I sat at the feet of my Great Grandparents, slung Rook cards with my Grandma and Grandpa, snickered at my crazy Aunt’s and their deafening laughter, and bonded with my many cousins.
While these parties continue to this day, the majority of Sunday afternoons find me here, in Northwest Montana, with my small family. I didn’t stand a chance to be honest. I was exposed to the beauty of the Flathead Valley at a young age and spent time here every summer. I recall Norman Maclean’s description of Montana from A River Runs Through It, “It was a world with dew still on it, more touched by wonder and possibility than any I have since known.” Now, not to be so dramatic but I was also quite taken by Montana and I knew it would one day be Home.
It should be obvious at this point that I’m feeling quite sentimental. We moved here in June six years ago. We were scared as we no longer had the security blanket of higher education directing our lives. It was finally now, at 30 years of age, to actually experience the “real world” and start a career. As a provider of dental care I sought out the small community of Columbia Falls and wanted to conduct business in a way that removed barriers between the patient and Oral Health.
I made my mission to welcome patients of all walks of life and treat them as equals. I looked around my community of Columbia Falls and Whitefish and observed our great teachers and educators. I found out what dental insurance provider they had and made sure I was an in-network provider to ease their financial burden when it came to receiving the needed care. I then proceeded to do the same with Plum Creek and then again as Weyerhaeuser took over with a new insurance provider.
I work constantly with my amazing team to ensure not just a good experience but an exceptional dental visit from entry to exit. I want nothing more than our patients to feel like they have been treated fairly and with respect, knowing that their comfort is our top priority. I just love the community I serve and am humbled by what we have been able to create during our time here. Here’s to 35 more years.
If what my wife Juli and I are doing in the Flathead is laying down roots, then I was a leaf on a Grand Ole Cottonwood in Northern Arizona. I mentioned that we were scared moving up here. Was our decision selfish to raise our kids away from Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins? I told my wife that now we are going to be the trunk of the tree and every Sunday afternoon we will have a “Miller Party” that will grow and enlarge as we age until it is our Great Grandchildren at our feet.
I don’t know what day you might be reading this, but I am writing it on a Saturday. Tomorrow I am leaving with my family on the early flight into Phoenix and we will make our first appearance at a “Miller Party” in quite some time. In fact, it will be the first for my two youngest children. I can’t wait to get my butt kicked at cards and basketball and to share old memories. I imagine we will be somewhat of a spectacle there and will answer lots of questions. One of which will be, “When are you all moving back to Arizona?” My answer will somewhat resemble the other Maclean brother, Paul, when he proclaims, “Oh, I’ll never leave Montana brother.”
Read Oh, I’ll Never Leave Montana Brother by Dr. John Miller in 406 Woman.