I love living in a small town (well, sometimes)
I live in a town of, oh, I don't know, about 25,000 within the city limits. I moved here in the 6th grade, a very difficult age in which to try to assimilate into a new school and the cliques within it. I came from an even smaller town, a military base, at that. The school where I attended had a majority of military kids in the same boat; there were very little cultural or social divisions.
Imagine the shock and frustration of moving to a close-knit area where kids grew up with each other since diapers....something with which I could not relate. Last names of my school peers were all over town on signs, storefronts, and restaurants. It seemed like everybody knew everybody. Newcomers from other states, like myself, stuck out like a sore thumb immediately. Needless to say, those middle school years were quite unstable as I sought to find my place.
Now, nearly 15 years later, I feel a part of my town....really. I completed middle school, high school, and even college within the confines of this area. I met and befriended many people, and found my niche. It's rare that I am jealous anymore of those who started kindergarten here. 15 years is a long time to be in one spot.
The best part of small-town living is seeing how he knows her and how she knows him. Whose dad is whose uncle, whose mom is whose dentist, whose teacher is whose cousin. The strings which tie us all together intertwine and cross so often. It becomes more obvious the older you grow.
I cannot go anywhere without seeing people I know. Ken and I went to an open house of a new women's and children's hospital in our city yesterday; we did not leave before we were stopped by and talked to 4 people that we knew....and there were at least ten more people we knew but did not speak to. We saw former classmates, former teachers, former friends, former coworkers.
Living in Columbia for two years afforded me a small luxury for a while....I could go out looking like a hurricane hit me (i.e., shoes untied, no makeup, dark circles under my eyes, and mis-matched clothing), and not have to worry one bit about running into someone I knew. That was nice, or so I thought. But then it began to hit me that loneliness was surfacing. It became a treat when I DID see someone I recognized, even if it was just another attorney from the law firm where I worked. I got excited about every familiar face. It became evident to me then that I missed home and the connections I had here.
I love going out to Publix and running into a mother who used to shop at the children's boutique where I used to work. I love going to the walking track and stopping to chat for a while with a former boss. I love going to church and seeing people I have not laid eyes on since high school or college graduation day.
And most of all, I love those people who come up to me and know EXACTLY who I am.....they even call me by name and list of personality traits that they remember about me "way back when." They leave me dumbfounded, scratching my head....who IS that? My memory recessess are very deep and full of cobwebs sometimes. I guess that happens to everybody. But it is still so nice to be noticed....and so vividly remembered.
Imagine the shock and frustration of moving to a close-knit area where kids grew up with each other since diapers....something with which I could not relate. Last names of my school peers were all over town on signs, storefronts, and restaurants. It seemed like everybody knew everybody. Newcomers from other states, like myself, stuck out like a sore thumb immediately. Needless to say, those middle school years were quite unstable as I sought to find my place.
Now, nearly 15 years later, I feel a part of my town....really. I completed middle school, high school, and even college within the confines of this area. I met and befriended many people, and found my niche. It's rare that I am jealous anymore of those who started kindergarten here. 15 years is a long time to be in one spot.
The best part of small-town living is seeing how he knows her and how she knows him. Whose dad is whose uncle, whose mom is whose dentist, whose teacher is whose cousin. The strings which tie us all together intertwine and cross so often. It becomes more obvious the older you grow.
I cannot go anywhere without seeing people I know. Ken and I went to an open house of a new women's and children's hospital in our city yesterday; we did not leave before we were stopped by and talked to 4 people that we knew....and there were at least ten more people we knew but did not speak to. We saw former classmates, former teachers, former friends, former coworkers.
Living in Columbia for two years afforded me a small luxury for a while....I could go out looking like a hurricane hit me (i.e., shoes untied, no makeup, dark circles under my eyes, and mis-matched clothing), and not have to worry one bit about running into someone I knew. That was nice, or so I thought. But then it began to hit me that loneliness was surfacing. It became a treat when I DID see someone I recognized, even if it was just another attorney from the law firm where I worked. I got excited about every familiar face. It became evident to me then that I missed home and the connections I had here.
I love going out to Publix and running into a mother who used to shop at the children's boutique where I used to work. I love going to the walking track and stopping to chat for a while with a former boss. I love going to church and seeing people I have not laid eyes on since high school or college graduation day.
And most of all, I love those people who come up to me and know EXACTLY who I am.....they even call me by name and list of personality traits that they remember about me "way back when." They leave me dumbfounded, scratching my head....who IS that? My memory recessess are very deep and full of cobwebs sometimes. I guess that happens to everybody. But it is still so nice to be noticed....and so vividly remembered.
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