Thoughts from Places.

As I went on my rides with a bike stolen/borrowed from my cousin, I kept thinking about my mom, and her life there before me.
I went past the church where she was baptized, confirmed, married; where she was in weddings, and cried at funerals. I went past the cemetery where she watched her dad, grandparents, aunts and uncles be buried, where they would go from being pieces of her to some dusty old bones buried 6 feet under ground. I went past her high school and elementary school, where she grew up and learned about math and english, friends, rumors, boys. I met her friends from her “past life”, apparently my mother and I could have been twins.
I wonder if when she was growing up, she was like me. If she was trying to do that right thing, held back her tears too often, had inflated opinions of herself, worried about her future, laughed easily, read too many books, and wanted someone to need her?
Norwalk is small, one of the million little towns in America. It has 5  churches(I counted), a Firelands bank(called firelands because the land here was given to people from Connecticut whose homes were burned down by fire during a war.), small businesses, homes, families, schools, hair salons, moms, dads, children, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, pets. Everyone knows everyone, their history, business, secrets. Everyone has things to deal with, and a life to live.
Its different there. People say hello, and make a conversation when they sit on their front porch, whether or not they know you. Their “traffic” is when instead of being the only car at a light, there are 3. The closest anything is 25 miles away. People are content though, with small things and big hearts. They take care of each other. My mother is like that in every place we’ve lived. Maybe she learned it there. Maybe I’m like her in that respect too.


lovelovelove,
hanhan