Double Vision in your Hometown

Going back to your hometown is like having double vision; you see things the way they are and the way they were at the same time. Now add wind storm damage, lack of power, a pandemic, and a funeral.

So I grew up in Morrison from 7 to 17, and lived off and on between college and jobs until I was 23. So it’s been twenty years away from this place; you don’t really appreciate it until you leave. I had such a case of wanderlust that it never occurred to me to stay. Now I wish I could go back, but time and circumstance make that very difficult… And may never happen.

But I got to show my son around and tell him all the fun stories about growing up here. Showed him the park, the old factory, my old homes… Actually found the school buildings open so a quick look at the high school, middle school, and elementary schools I went to was interesting. Most of them still have the 1960s shell, but have either been renovated or added on to. Even found a door open to the auditorium, so I could show him the massive (for the town) stage that we had… And that spoke to his little theater geek heart.

The funeral was nice and weird. Got to show Asher the church I grew up at which has a lot of really cool stuff and secret places. Even played some ping pong; the boy really wanted to go back. We were all masked in the sanctuary, we didn’t sing the hymns, but the preacher was great. Then we drove to the cemetery and interred her there. Then I dragged him around to visit my mom’s grave, my grandpa’s, my good friend’s, and my brother’s.

And that’s probably the reason I don’t come back very often. Most of the folks I knew are gone. When you move around as much as I did, you realize that it’s not the places you miss as much as the people. So when my mom died in 1993, followed by my brother is 1996, I had less and less incentive to return. My cousin still lives here, and he’s wonderful, but my uncles and aunts are spread out more. There’s always an excuse not to come.

The preacher said that she really didn’t know my grandma that well (he arrived 14 years ago and she became less and less talkative after grandpa died 12 years ago), but he knew who she was because he knew her kids and family. That was a great tribute. The family loves readily, laughs easily, helps out others, slow to anger, and slow to forgive… and that came all from my grandma. Not perfect, but wonderful, and with six children, fourteen grandchildren, and 22 great grandchildren to show for it.