I live in Atlanta. Actually, our house is in a suburb about 30 miles north of Atlanta. Just far enough away that we never have to go into the city if we don't want to, but close enough that it's there if we need it. I love where we live. When I met my husband some 10 or 11 years ago, the fact that he already had plans in motion to leave this forsaken town in Kentucky was reason enough to want to marry him.
This forsaken down in Kentucky is called Radcliff. Population just over 20k. What that means is, there is no going anywhere that you don't see someone you know and there is no doing anything that everyone doesn't know about. Yeah... my childhood was AWESOME.
So, I venture home about two to three times a year. Once around the holidays, once in the summer when my sister's kids are here for a month, and once somewhere inbetween when my sister and I can manage a trip at the same time. Since she lives in Iowa, Kentucky is a good midpoint for us to travel too and it makes sure that neither of us is stuck here alone. This year, my sister's children's spring break and my spring break coincided. My 4 year old had to miss a few days of his pre-pre-school (what is THAT anyway??) but I didn't feel like it would effect the overall outcome of his education.
Also, this year, my mother and I decided to get puppies. So I got to make the 6 hour trip with a dog in tow as well. This morning while I was out walking him, maybe 10am or so, I could hear the tanks running cannon drills. When we came inside, the blasts were so loud the glasses on the counterops were shaking and rattling in the kitchen. The military base is only about 4 miles away, so this is nothing strange around here. My dog was scared to death. It wasn't until he started freaking out that I even realized the sound. It's funny how we grow accustomed to things at "home." Sounds, tastes, smells... Think about it for a second, close your eyes, do you remember what it smelled like when you walked into your house as a child? Your mom cooking your favorite food? The smell of the the breeze as it rushed through the open windows? Maybe it's so different for me because my parents live so far from where I live now.
What will my son remember?
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)