So who knew that sidewalks could make you cry? Not tripping and falling over them, I am just talking about just seeing them. Big ole tears. Sniffing and snuffling and chest heaving.
That's what happened today when I drove by the old house to be a good landlord and check on how things were looking -- make sure the new tenants hadn't spray painted the house purple. I turned onto Main Street and saw the sidewalks with the bumpy yellow ramps and an already shaky trip down memory lane went downhill quick.
I miss those sidewalks. I have fond memories of running those sidewalks with my baby and then babies. Being able to walk out my door to those sidewalks that could take me anywhere -- through nearby neighborhoods, or to the public library or to five points for a freshly brewed coffee or at best for 30 minutes or more, away from my four walls --the fact that they were there offered me some comfort it seems.
It's been a rough adjustment moving away from my comforts of city life. Today is a month. I still get a little teary eyed when I think about it all.
I miss having my mama and my children's Gigi ten minutes away. I can't sugar coat that one -- and I dare you to try.
I miss convenience. Like organic produce and hormone-free milk at an arm's reach.
I miss neighbors who don't pull into their garage and then close it before I can even catch a glimpse.
I miss the sirens - mostly because they have been replaced by a rooster & barking dog.
I miss being able to walk out my door to run the city. And apparently I miss sidewalks.
I am doing my best to be patient and allow this adjustment, like all the others, to take place.
I really am.
And most days, I am hopeful -- because of the little faces running and swinging in the new big backyard and because of the sweet eyes that meet my own each night in our own room.
I did get that third bedroom, after all.
