Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Me and John Denver.


I just came home from Waseca. I drove Cedric there because he will work tonight. He will stay there till Friday, then Ken and I will pick him up again on Saturday. He spends his days off at home here in Wells.

I was alone on the road, on my way back. Everything looks quite and peaceful.

Then...

country road, take me home, to the place I belong...

That's John Denver on the radio. Suddenly I am reminded of home and I get a little misty eyed. My thoughts went wild. I envisioned my dad the last time I saw him. I remember the house I grew up with, and the folks who shaped me into who I am today. I remember the old movie house across the street, the plaza where I played with my cousins as a kid, my elementary school, the market place.

life is old there, older than the trees...

I keep remembering my hometown, and it make me feel sad, and painful and happy and warm all at the same time. I swell bursting with pride and love for the place I was born. And I wonder if everyone feels this way when they hear this song no matter where they're from, or if it's just me and John Denver.

the radio reminds me of my home far away...

Even when I have come to love living here in Wells because of Ken, I know that part of my being is always tied to my old home town. A piece of it lingers in the vast sugar cane field that stretches out under the sun. Another piece lay hidden in the old ancestral house and the trees I have climbed. But most of it lingers where all the elements of childhood, of magic, of tradition, of love, of comfort, and of belonging resides.

take me home, country roads...

Soon, very soon.

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