Thursday, September 8, 2011

Gravel Beneath My Feet

I hope you will read today. For my parents.....for your parents.

I walked across the driveway at my son's home. The grey gravel crunched beneath my feet. I looked down at the gravel. It wasn't the same. No, the gravel in the lane was different.

I never thought much about it when I was a kid. We lived back a lane. Not everyone lived back lanes. Not everyone knew what it was like to take that hike from house to road. Not everyone knew that we looked over the fields as we walked down the lane. We looked at Stager's house. We looked at Lavy's. We looked down at the bridge. If someone was out, we yelled across the fields and waved. No, not everyone lived back a lane.

That lane was so much a part of our history that we just took it for granted. Yet almost all of my childhood memories include the lane. When visitors came, we heard the car on the lane. The sound of gravel sent the house into action. It was the same with fuel delivery trucks, tractors, horses and bicycles. The gravel crunched, and the call went, "They're here!"

I know Mom and Dad listened for that crunching gravel when their daughters were due back for a visit. No longer had we turned into the lane when one of them would appear, usually both. In turn, we listened for the next arriving sibling. We had a game of sorts. When we heard an unexpected vehicle approaching, Mom usually said, "Well, who do imagine that is?" In turn, we would try to imagine and come up with the correct answer. Usually, were we correct in guessing one of the usual visitors Gene, Betty or Junior. The lane was a track that brought visitors on foot. Neighbor visiting neighbor. Child looking for a playmate. The gravel crunched near the front door, and one of us would be there to answer.

We lived back a lane. We walked down it to go to school. We walked down it to get the mail. We walked down it to go to the bridge. We walked down it to wade in it's puddles. We walked down it to go to the neighbors. We drove down it when we went off to college. We drove down it one last time.

Gravel beneath my feet.......

No comments: