I am in the process of trying to decide whether to keep this web page active or not.  I have recently realized that I seem to only want to write when I have something exciting or very interesting to say.  That’s a tall order, since the vast majority of days are just plain-ole-average days.   As I wrestle with this decision, I will try writing about some of my routine days.

Today, however, was a bit different.  Nothing wildly exciting, but different from most days.  Memorial Day.  A day when my Mom’s side of the family has a picnic every year.  I usually don’t go, for various reasons.  But today I decided to go, because I wanted to drive through the small town where I was born.  The annual picnic is held near there.

I have fond memories of that small town.  I lived there for the first 9 years of my life, and I thought it was a delightful place.  Today, driving through, everything looked different.   Most of Main Street was boarded-up buildings.  Tough economic times.  I wondered what people who live there do to make a living these days.

I don’t think I had seen the house where I was born for about 40 years, but I somehow expected it to look the same.  I drove by several times, trying to find something recognizable.  Nothing, except that it was on a corner, across the street from our church and the big tree in the back yard that once held a tree house.

I didn’t feel sad about the changes; it just caused me to think.  About how the pictures we hold in our minds from the past differ from the current reality.  And that’s okay.

But, in this case, I am choosing to continue to remember my childhood view of my home, feeling grateful, not only for those memories, but also for how much I’ve grown and experienced since then.

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  • I always enjoy reading your comments, including this one. I hope you continue to publish your blog, and write in it when you feel moved to do so.

    May 29, 2014

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