I'm up at the farm this weekend - visiting an old friend who's moving away. It so happens that my parents are away, so I'm the only one staying at the house.
At times, I've had considerable doubts about my decision to move back to Minnesota. I was really angry and miserable the first three months - mostly at the weather but also through sheer exhaustion. Now that the weather has gotten warmer, it's easier to appreciate the lower cost of living and pollen-and-excessive population-free environment.
But I'm only truly grateful for my move when I make the drive north, to my parents farm and my childhood home. I'm grateful that I have the chance to visit with my favorite uncle, kiss my beautiful, sassy and rapidly ageing aunt and visit with my best friend's parents. I enjoy a walk on the prairie, for no reason other than that I'm HOME. I am grateful that my childhood room is basically unchanged, the well-water still tastes sweet and that basically, things change very slowly in rural America.
I am so. grateful. to have these things.
Of course, I'm fortunate (and sometimes unfortunate) that my mother instilled a proper amount of nostalgia and empathy in me, so that I crave being around things that remind me of my past. Also, this draw really only works for places that you've never moved from - places that your parents chose, settled and stayed in for over 40 years. And places where the memories ARE sweet, or atleast bittersweet, so that you want to relive those feelings again.
Tonight, I'll be home along in my folk's place, but this doesn't creep me out. I love the silence here. I love this kooky old place. (I love they have cable!) And if Iget into trouble, I know where the shot guns are...