Where would I go if I could go anywhere? This was a difficult question for me and it took me most of the day to decide.
I thought of all the places I had been, where my favorite places were, and which places I might want to go back to but none of these places inspired me to write about them. You see as an adult, I have tried to go back to some of those places from the past and each time I did I was disappointed because it was never the same. Oh, there were memories and some feelings of nostalgia for a short time but also some sadness when reality reminded me those days were gone and can’t be retrieved. And in some respects I am thankful for that for some of those places weren’t places I would want to go back to. I have grown up and moved forward and life changes as we move from one season to the next. I read somewhere, a few years ago, it is good to look in the rear-view mirror occasionally but better to spend the majority of your time looking at what is right in front of you.
As a child in a dysfunctional family, secondary to my father’s alcoholism, we moved many times. I never had a permanent place I could call home or a home town. The longest we ever lived anywhere was eight years. Now I am not saying this to complain because I made many friends along the way and even remain friends with a few of them, but I say this as my explanation why I don’t have any real attachment to one place.
After I was married my husband and we did live in the same small town for 43 years. WOW – culture shock, but we did move to eight different houses in that little town. The town was in a valley and the mountains surrounded us. This was the first place that I really felt secure. I’m not sure if it was the mountains that made me feel secure or just being in a place where I could put down roots. It was the place we raised our children. It was a place where our children would go to the same schools from kindergarten to 12th grade. So as adults they would be able to talk with friends about “remember when we were kids” and share the stories of growing up together. The conversations that I have never been able to be part of. It was the place where I learned God loved me and where I committed my life to Him. It was a secure place, a “home town.”
The view from the room I prefer is one in the future. This room would be in a little bungalow with a breakfast nook, a picture window and a view of the mountains, I love the mountains. Mountains make me think of God’s strength and majesty and because I’m His child, that makes me feel secure.
A bungalow where in our retirement our children and grandchildren will come and visit Papa and I. We will tell stories about our kids growing up years and read to the grandchildren from the same story books that I read from to there parents. We will have Sunday dinners together when they visit after church. And in the quiet time when everyone’s gone home, while my wonderful husband is playing games on his computer and watching TV, I will continue writing so that all our memories are preserved for generations to come.