I stepped out onto my back porch tonight, and the cool night breeze was so refreshing. The nighthawks were swooping and diving like the bats back in Iowa do at this time of early night. With a deep sigh, I realized I am homesick, not for a particular location, but a time. I am homesick for a tribe of girls on horseback playing pony express up and down the gravel roads, playing circus in the hay mow, and trying to catch minnows in the creek. Times like hanging out in front of the Pizza Palace or cruising Main, home when the street lights come on, Friday night football games, dances at Chips, and Prom in the old town hall.
I am homesick for my grandparents McFarland raucously tapping their feet to Lawrence Welk while eating popcorn and drinking glass bottles of 7-Up. I loved watching the love in their faces when Grandpa would sashay over to Grandma, hold his hand out to her, and dance around the living room. I would love the luxury of what seemed to be the world’s bubbliest bubble bath at Grandma Stong’s house, and to smell a trace of Grandpa’s Half and Half tobacco. I miss hearing the laughter and the chatter of holidays with Max and Myrtle, Art and Lorraine, Herman and Margaret, Maxine and Derwood, Mildred and Frank, Addie Lee, the Balls, the Braveners, the Rochfords… a network of family and of friends that were as dear as family. They all now seem like fireflies, one by one burning out until I am left with an empty jar.
Still, life is renewing, and I am grateful there is a new generation making their own memories, in their own ways and I am not finished collecting my own new memories and adventures. But, I know now why the old ones always reminisced and rehashed what felt like the same worn-out stories. I guess I have become one of the old ones now, and I crave for those sweet times like cotton candy the day after Dairy Day. I am by no means dissatisfied with today – with my life, my place in the world. I have truly been blessed with incredibly remarkable past and present family and friends. Still, when the night breeze blows just right, the pine trees do seem to whisper…”do you remember?”
