Chad Minnicks Moving to Boise Story

“Dad, I want to live in America.”

That's what my youngest daughter told me after she graduated from college. She was trying to decide where to start her career. At first, she planned to move to Western Washington. Then she changed her mind. She was tired of the crime, the politics, the anger, the way people treated each other. The growing inability to tolerate someone with a different opinion.

“Dad, I want to live in America.” I said, “Oh yeah? Where's that?” “I'm going to go check out Boise, Idaho.”

At that point, I had never been to Boise. She went. She fell in love with it. She started a career in real estate there. And now Julie and I are moving to Boise.

Politics isn't the reason we're moving. Although, it is definitely a serendipitous upside.

The reason is family!

A few years ago, Julie and I moved to Chelan. We've loved it here. The slower pace. The rural lifestyle. Knowing our neighbors. Living in a community where people know each other. Then something happened we didn't expect. Our family ended up around us. Our children and grandchildren became part of our daily lives. My parents were here. Julie's parents were here. Four generations.

It turns out multigenerational living is a pretty great way to raise a family. Our grandchildren have parents, grandparents and great-grandparents involved in their lives. We see each other all the time. We help each other.

We want that to be part of our family's legacy. But we've also realized it will be difficult to sustain in Chelan. This is a wonderful place. But unless you're in a handful of industries, there aren't many career opportunities for young people. We saw that with Mac. She graduated from college and had to leave to start her career.

Our grandchildren are still kids. But in about 12 years, some of them will graduate from high school.

Then they'll start asking, "Where do I build my life?" We want them to have the option of building it close to family.

Julie and I had already started wondering whether Chelan would really be our forever home. That was hard. Five years ago, Julie handed me a roll of plans she'd worked up with a draftsman. “Build me this house,” she said. So I did. We thought it was our forever house.

Then something happened that sped up the clock. I had a health scare. My doctors were fairly certain I had cancer. They needed more tests to confirm it, but they thought they knew what they were looking at.

A friend of mine was recently diagnosed with the same kind of cancer and passed away within two weeks. It was serious.

Suddenly, I felt like somebody had stamped an expiration date on the bottom of my foot. I remember being on the phone with my doctor. By the end of the call, I could still hear her talking, but it sounded like mumbling in the background. There was a drumbeat in my head. "Invest in your daughters and grandchildren. And do it now."

That evening, I told my oldest daughter, Melissa what the doctor had told me. I need to tell you something about Melissa. I've watched her become the next leader of our family. She has wisdom. Everyone respects her. She loves this family fiercely. I'm proud of her. And someday, when it's time for me to pass the torch, I know the family will be in good hands.

I told Melissa what the doctor had said. She got up from her chair and hugged me. Then she started talking about the family. Not herself. The family. How do we keep everyone close? How do we make sure we're together? What comes next? I hadn't told her about the drumbeat in my head. I didn't need to. She was already there...invest in family.

Turns out I do NOT have cancer. So that's a relief. Doctors still are trying to figure out what's wrong with me. My dad would probably say it's just the orneriness inside me coming out. But for about a month, I thought I might have an expiration date. That changes the way you think about time.

I told Julie that we keep talking about what we'll do someday. Someday we'll make a change. Someday we'll figure out how to keep the family close. Someday. We can spend our whole life waiting for it. For me, today is "someday." Carpe the gosh darn diem.

I'm 53 years old. I've spent more than 30 years in the political campaign business. It's been an extraordinary career. I've worked with some wonderful people. I've been part of remarkable campaigns. I've been very blessed.

But understandably, none of my daughters want to follow me into politics. I can't blame them. They have their own lives to build. Their own careers. Their own dreams. That's where I want to invest more of my time.

I've lived on this earth for more than half a hundred years. I've learned a few things. I want to invest those things in my daughters. I'm not saying I'll never work in politics again. I'm saying my focus has changed.

Mac, my youngest, is a real estate agent with Keller Williams in Boise. I'm enthusiastically jumping in to help her build her business. My oldest, Melissa, works in immigration law. I know she has ideas for her future. When she's ready, I want to be there to help. My middle daughter, Magda, works in elder care. She's getting ready to begin a medical training program and take the next step in her career. And Julie? I'm pretty sure she'll spend her time investing in real estate, maybe even building houses.

So that's the next chapter for Julie and me. We're moving to Boise. And we're going to see what we can build, all focused on family. If you've been thinking about Boise—or anywhere in Southern Idaho—give me a call. Mac and I would love to help you figure out whether it's the right move for you.

Because the last several months taught me something. Someday has a way of staying someday. At some point, you have to decide. For me, I decided that someday is today. Chad Minnick

Here's Mac's real estate website: https://macminnick.com/