Memory Lane
Home. It's sure good to sleep in my own bed after 9 days. It was super to go and be gone with HD, but man it was good to come home again.We rode 870 miles from PA to NY and back on a Road King that rode like a tank with a cement block for a seat. Every time we'd stop for any reason and I got off the bike, I'd all but BEG to not have to get back on. Other than that, the trip was super.
Friday we hopped on our nice, comfy motorcycle bound for Sidney, NE for my family reunion. That was all fine but on Saturday morning as we headed north to Dalton, I found myself on memory lane. Little towns along the way like Huntsman and Gurley... they don't have more than 50 people living in them but the stories we used to hear about them while sitting at Grandma's kitchen table...
As we got closer to town, I looked for the bridge that hosts the railroad track but that you could see a beautiful windmill if you looked under the bridge. The windmill is long gone, but the bridge is there.
A few more miles down the road and you could see the Dalton water tower and the elevator. With each passing mile it becomes clearer and bigger. Finally, the last curve on the highway as you come into town. The 2nd house into town on the highway was Grandma & Grandpas house. It looks clean and well kept. The people who live there now clearly take very good care of it. And the man that lives there waved at us as we passed by. The urge to stop was almost too much. HD told me to stop and ask if I could see the house but I said no, I'd just be disappointed because it wouldn't be the same as the last time I was in it.
We met up with Uncle Lyle and cousin Loretta. Then headed off to the Senior Center where the troops were gathered. It was good to see everyone again. Some I've seen since the last reunion and some I haven't. Cousins Shirley and her b/f Sam, and cousin Bryan and his wife Patty and HD and myself headed out for a town tour. All of 15 minutes. We hoofed it CLEAR out to the cemetary. It couldn't have been more than 8 blocks or so. But it sounds like a looonnnggg ways. :) We saw Grandma & Grandpa's graves. That was good yet sad. So we headed back to the Senior Center. All the way laughing and talking about things we'd done there or "got away with" there. The fun we had in a town that has about nothing is funny to think about now.
The woodpile by Grandpa's driveway is long gone and the maintainer is gone. So is the snow plow that used to be at the end of the driveway, the one we all played on. The picnic table is gone and the fenced in yard and garden are gone. Yet, it looks the same. The memories are loud and vivid. The front porch on the south side of the house where YS and I spent ENDLESS summer days counting the motorcycles headed to Sturgis for amusement in a one-horse town. If only we'd been old enough to appeciate it back then.
I could smell the smells of coffee brewing in Grandma's kitchen and the smell of the musty fruit room in the basement, where the stationary bike was, which we used for HOURS to amuse ourselves. In Grandpas bathroom, I could still smell the soap and the aftershave. I can see the tall white metal cupboard that housed the towels and remember the cold cement floor. In the next room over was the piano. Not all the keys worked but we pounded out a tune anyway. And the smell of Grandpas tobacco in the desk there. Strong smelling and sweet.
The little round stool on wheels that Grandpa made was a great means of entertainment as we pushed eachother and scooted along on the cement basement floor for hours. Sometimes tipping over and laughing.
And the deep freeze fully stocked by the Schwan's man with any and every kind of ice cream. Help yourself.
The upstairs north bedroom, where we always stayed was a soft lavendar paint. It had a dark, lush, soft velor curtain set and bedspread and I loved that thing. Then the little roll away that we used and it usually pinched a finger when we tried to fold it up.
I'm taken back by all the memories that came flooding back. I'm so glad I went.
� grizmom at
2007-06-26
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