.... but you can go back. It has been eight years since the farm sale and our move to Creston. And almost eight years since the final papers were signed and the dismantling of our childhood home began.
I *knew* what happened - our old trailer house, home for 13 years, was moved, all the other buildings, including the house we grew up in, were bulldozed, burned and buried - along with all the trees.
For the longest time I couldn't even think about home let alone talk about it. Friends would tell me they had driven by and want to tell me what it looked like but I would just shake my head and utter, "don't".
But "time heals all wounds" and I began to think "maybe, one of these days, I'll drive back by there." I knew about the huge grain bin where the house once stood. I could see it from the highway a mile away and I had looked at our little section of Jasper 22 on google earth, so I *knew* what it looked like - or, more specifically, what it no longer looked like.
Then this summer my older brother, Ron, used his column in Time Out, a local (Adams County) newsletter for 'those aged 55 and older', to write about his memories of the way he went to school (walking) seventy years ago. I walked that same mile going to and from school from 1949 to 1957 (and again for exercise after we moved back to the farm in 1995). Ron is older than I, how would our memories compare?
His walk began on the road in front of where our house had stood. Mine began with this photo:
Down the hill, we're almost there -
Ron's memories ended here, with the school, but I aimed my camera east and took one more photo.
I find that my brother's memories are much the same as mine, he shared more of his in his Round the Clubhouse Turn* column than I have here, but my whole blog was begun for my memories.
And, I was going to apologize for the accidental blue tone of all my photos, but maybe I was *meant* to have that filter turned on to match my mood about going back 'home' for the first time in eight years.
Funnily enough, it didn't make me feel blue after all. Time has healed the pain of all that was but is no more - but time has not taken away my memories (yet) and I still have the photos of the way it was......
*Someday I must ask Ron the why and wherefore of this name for his column - that might turn into a blog post, too.