Monday, February 20, 2012

The Back Way

We drove to Greenville the back way going over to 36 instead of down 571. We didn't go this way often on our way to piano lessons. Mom drove, and we chatted as we passed the farms we knew. We passed Loy's. We passed Neff's. We checked out the houses to see if all was well. If someone was outside, we waved.

When we finally got to Gettysburg, a story of the past would more than likely surface. Perhaps it was a story of the time Mom bought a rug at the furniture store. Maybe it was about watching Gene play baseball. Sometimes the story were about the cemetery that sat near the stop sign. The place where many of the Johnson's rested.

Gettysburg was one of the small towns near us. Cousins lived there. Mom would often stop and visit.  I remember once sitting in front of the barber shop waiting for Dad. Mom was visiting with Almeda and I was just watching the traffic. There never was a great deal of traffic in Gettysburg, so the watching was tedious at best. However, I learned history sitting there. Stories that made Mom and Almeda laugh. I caught up on the local gossip and the health of other relatives. I didn't live in a small town but got a glimpse of the life in Gettysburg.

Sometimes the simplest of events in my life gave this farm girl insight into the world that surrounded our country home. Sitting on a bench next to a wooden Indian. Walking in a cemetery looking at names and dates on stone. A drive down a road looking out for neighbors. I learned and saved for today.

It was a good day when we went the back way to Greenville. It was a good day for a ride with Mom.

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