My Hometown
Kind of strange driving through the old hometown when there's nothing to think about but what you're seeing outside the window. The memories have a tendency to come in waves as you recall days gone by.
I left my cell phone at my parents home yesterday and being that everything must be just so, it was on my mind as I woke up this morning. I needed my phone - for what, I don't know, but I knew I wouldn't rest until I retrieved it.
So I headed off alone - we all know about the shopping, so Kathy was gone, but the boys were also still asleep, so I had a nice, quiet ride into town.
I passed by a house where a girl I had a high school crush on used to live. I thought about meeting her parents as a boy, scared that they'd tear my head off. I had a fleeting thought about how her life might have turned out, but it didn't matter much to me now.
I drove past the streetlight that we spent hours throwing rocks at on Halley Road. I remember that the kid who eventually broke it and sent glass flying had died in an accident just following his 16th birthday - nearly 30 years later, I thought of his excitement and how hard we laughed as we ran back to the campsite.
I drove past the houses of a hundred friends, and on by the Den and Speedy's where we drank hundreds of beers and dreamed about how our lives would turn out. I saw how the businesses had all changed hands again - not many of them where the same as when I was young. Where were The Lemon Tree, and Hoag's Dairy? Now there are dollar stores and pizzeria's in their place.
My hometown always seemed to be alive, but as I traveled today the streets were empty. I drove past the funeral home and the cemetery. I thought of friends gone too soon and how I used to serve as an altar boy at the funerals.
I passed the Town Park and remembered playing softball - Go Lions! - and the moment when we won the league championship for the first time. It all went by so quickly.
And five minutes after I picked up my phone, it rang and one of the boys asked me what we'd be doing for fun today. I thought about their childhood and how it was their time to build a hundred different memories, and it occurred to me that their memories would be shaped by how secure, and how happy I helped them to be, because the hometown, in the end isn't about the buildings that were there, or who lived where, but in the happiness felt in each day gone by.
I would think that it's nearly impossible to pass through your hometown on the day after Thanksgiving and not consider something more than what's on television that night.
Over the last couple of hours, I feel like I watched about ten hours of a home movie, and thankfully it's a movie that is still going strong.
I left my cell phone at my parents home yesterday and being that everything must be just so, it was on my mind as I woke up this morning. I needed my phone - for what, I don't know, but I knew I wouldn't rest until I retrieved it.
So I headed off alone - we all know about the shopping, so Kathy was gone, but the boys were also still asleep, so I had a nice, quiet ride into town.
I passed by a house where a girl I had a high school crush on used to live. I thought about meeting her parents as a boy, scared that they'd tear my head off. I had a fleeting thought about how her life might have turned out, but it didn't matter much to me now.
I drove past the streetlight that we spent hours throwing rocks at on Halley Road. I remember that the kid who eventually broke it and sent glass flying had died in an accident just following his 16th birthday - nearly 30 years later, I thought of his excitement and how hard we laughed as we ran back to the campsite.
I drove past the houses of a hundred friends, and on by the Den and Speedy's where we drank hundreds of beers and dreamed about how our lives would turn out. I saw how the businesses had all changed hands again - not many of them where the same as when I was young. Where were The Lemon Tree, and Hoag's Dairy? Now there are dollar stores and pizzeria's in their place.
My hometown always seemed to be alive, but as I traveled today the streets were empty. I drove past the funeral home and the cemetery. I thought of friends gone too soon and how I used to serve as an altar boy at the funerals.
I passed the Town Park and remembered playing softball - Go Lions! - and the moment when we won the league championship for the first time. It all went by so quickly.
And five minutes after I picked up my phone, it rang and one of the boys asked me what we'd be doing for fun today. I thought about their childhood and how it was their time to build a hundred different memories, and it occurred to me that their memories would be shaped by how secure, and how happy I helped them to be, because the hometown, in the end isn't about the buildings that were there, or who lived where, but in the happiness felt in each day gone by.
I would think that it's nearly impossible to pass through your hometown on the day after Thanksgiving and not consider something more than what's on television that night.
Over the last couple of hours, I feel like I watched about ten hours of a home movie, and thankfully it's a movie that is still going strong.
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