Feeling as I do is not just because I was raised in a town with less than 2000 people. It's also from a childhood and summers spent treating the mountains of Colorado like my own personal play ground. It's from countless road trips with my parents and grandparents and the chance to experience all sorts of different people and lifestyles. And it's from spending several years living in the heart of Chicago.
Don't get me wrong, I want to travel extensively and see the world. I want to visit all of the large cities and small villages and everything in between. I want to experience everything life and this world have to offer, living my life actively rather than passively. But at the end of all of that I want to come home to a small town.
I took a walk through my town today. The size of my waistline, combined with the cost of gas, and a need to just be out led me to walk downtown to complete the errands I needed to do. Along the way I was passed by both the girls and boys high school track teams. They were out running the streets as part of their practice. The girls team was incredibly noisy, with all of the girls running in a large bunch and talking and laughing together. The boys team was much quieter and more spread out, with the true jocks about two blocks ahead of the adorably chubby kid who would alternate running a few steps and speed walking. I was reminded immediately of my high school days, of the fun and innocence and great expectations I had and it made me smile.
At the drug store the clerk and I chatted about the weather and the promise of spring and the great quote she had chosen for the chalk board in the wine section (something along the lines of "wine is the only gift that makes both the giver and the receiver look good"... hilarious and a little true). When she said she enjoyed chatting with me and thanked me for coming in I believed she actually meant it.
After the drug store I went next door to the post office. A man was inside and just about to open the door to leave when he saw me. He pulled open the door, held it for me, and responded to my thanks by looking me in the eyes and saying, "You're very welcome, ma'am" before smiling at me. A real gentleman, although I could have done without the ma'am. :)
I took a different route home and came across a lady out walking her dog. To make the passing easier I diverted to the street. Potentially misinterpreting my action, the owner informed me as we passed that her dog was friendly. I had met this particular dog once before, about 10 years ago, yet still remembered the dog's name is Snickers. So Snickers, her owner, and I stopped in the street to chat while Snickers and I became reacquainted.
I was enjoying my walk so when it came time to turn right and head home, I instead turned left and wound up at the public library. I used to live in the library, particularly in my elementary and middle school days. Back then the library was in the old fire station. It was cramped and packed to the gills and a wonderful place to just get lost for hours. The new library is much more modern and open, but in the end still full of books and still just as easy to get lost in. I ended up carrying home five books, checking them out under the account that was set up for me in 1993.
The route home took me past the nursing home. During 5th grade I volunteered quite a bit at that nursing home, spending my afternoons reading large-print editions of Reader's Digest aloud, playing board and card games, and trying to keep up with Flo. Flo was one of the nursing home's feistier residents. She would tell the most outlandish stories and could come up with the best pranks. The thing I remember most about her, though, is her glass eye. One of her favorite things to do was to pop out that eye and either attempt to frighten the kid volunteers (it only worked once on me) or hide the eye and make the nurses look for it (they didn't care so much for that). Good memories.
In the space of an hour today I interacted on a truly personal level with a handful of people and had a chance to reminisce about some very good times in my life. All because I live in a small town. Of course, you can interact on a truly personal level with people in a large city, too, but it's harder. You actually have to try in a large city. Here, it's just a natural way of life. I like that.
Wow, this turned into a rather long post about nothing in particular. :) I guess I just felt like writing today!
Love!
~g
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