Sunday, July 20, 2008

Home Again

I grew up in a small town about 85 miles north of the metropolitan area I live in. For a lot of my life, whenever I had been away from my hometown, that place was still my home. And it wasn't when I arrived at my mother's house that I was home, it was when I entered the county. All of the landmarks along the highway were part of "home." There are the grain towers where my granddad used to take me as a child for caramel candies. The community building in the smaller town to the south where I've attended birthday parties and wedding receptions. The factory where my mom worked for ages and ages, and where I spent a miserable (but well paying) summer. Then there's the Dairy Queen, the county Courthouse, the old grocery store, and the roads that take me to the places of my childhood. That was home.

Yesterday, we visited my hometown to go to a festival that I knew would be loads of fun for my kids. It was great. Although, the pork burgers were severely sub-par. Pork producers, why did you sell out? We also took a lap through the neighboring state park to pick out our spots for an upcoming camping trip. Then we headed home.

We live in a "small" town outside of the state capital. It's quickly becoming a suburb as this town and the capital grow into each other. But it still has a "small town" feel, which I love.

As we arrived in town last night, and we drove around the golf course to the road that leads to our house, I said, "This is home." Even though BK and I have been married for almost 8 years, and have resided in this house for 5 years, last night was the first time that I consciously understood that this is where I live. There is a new road and new landmarks that lead to my home now. The home where my husband and children are.

I know that may not make a lot of sense. Sadly, my mother recently lost her home as part of the mortgage/foreclosure problem that is currently plaguing the country. Up until my mom had to move, there was always a place to go in my hometown that was my "home."

The loss of a house that holds so many important memories of my early years had such a large impact, but I didn't realize it until last night. And as we approached this house - the one that BK's grandparents built, with their own hands - I truly began to appreciate the place my heart calls home.

*****

After reading this post, BK encouraged me to send it to the Vinyl Cafe Story Exchange. I hope Stuart likes it.

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