Growing Up in a Small Town

Two things happened the Thursday before Mother’s Day that made me realize how growing up in a small town can be such a great thing.

First, I called to order flowers for Mother’s Day. I didn’t have to tell the person I was talking to who the flowers were for. She knew that they were for “Mrs. Margaret”. Everyone knows who my Mamma is. She knew me and assured me that they would make something special for my mamma.

Then, I posted a picture of my Dad because it’s the anniversary his death. Until today, I never realized what an impact his death had and still has on my friends. I knew we were a close knit community, but today I found out we were and still are a family. I guess when you’re wrapped up in your own grief as a 13 year old kid, you’re not always aware of what’s going on around you.

It was humbling after having been gone for all these years to find out that time and distance really are only constructs of our own creation. We can still reach out across both of them to reconnect “the now and the here” with “the then and the there”.

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My Hat

My hat. It covers my hair on those days when I don’t feel like taking a shower. It’s comfortable and easy going. But mostly, it’s a signal to Ben that we’re going outside. When I put it on, he can barely contain his excitement. It says adventure, places to sniff, and a walk. It doesn’t matter that it’s old territory being covered once again. To him, it’s always new and exciting.

My Hat

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Purple is my favorite color. Until today it hasn’t held any significance. Today, I realized that purple is the color for Alzheimer’s Awareness. So now, I claim purple for my Grandma. Whenever I drink from my purple mug at work, use my iPad with the purple cover, or wear something purple, I will think of her. I miss her every day and pray that someday we find a cure for this horrible disease.

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