About a week before Christmas, Dean and I set out for the long 12 hour trip back to the western tier of NY to where we grew up. Wellsville, NY to be exact. A small old town, familiar, unchanged except for a few new store fronts, full of memories, both good and unpleasant, as so goes with life. This journey was for the funeral of my step-dad Jack, who passed on due to a long bout with cancer. Sad, yes very sad, but in a way a relief, as you never want a person to end their long lived life, suffering from such a thing.
So we headed out all eager for this road trip together, just Dean and I, taking in the beautiful land that lay before us, with excited thoughts of seeing family that are dear to our hearts.
This place where I came from,
it's filled with rolling hills and beautiful countryside.
Years ago, we moved from this area with hopes of new adventure, warmer weather of course and the prospects of a different and broadened life. All those and more came to be,
most beyond our wildest dreams. But still, when entering this town, that feeling of "being home" welcomed me, as it most always does.
The drive down the main street where I once walked up and down for hours, trying desperately to find something, anything to do, never changes much. The Modern Diner is still there with it's neon sign lit up, looking somewhat out of place against the historic buildings and old fashion street lamps. Cannon's is gone, as is the store that filled me with wonder during Christmas, Rockwell's Department Store. Some things will never change, or had best not. The Texas Hot, my favorite place as is a good many people I meet, some even from this area who know of it's fame. A spattering of people I used to know, still fill their certain spots. The old library still looks stately, a beautiful building where usually I would go, since we weren't fortunate enough to have a set of Britannica
for school papers.
I am grateful for those unchanged ones.
They anchor me, and this town.
I cannot begin to give justice to the feelings I had upon entering my uncle's home. When my great aunt lived there long ago, we ventured over to visit, me being only small. A warmth still filled the home, like a cozy blanket on a chilly day. The sound of familiar voices, laughter, the creeks in the floor as you stepped inside and up the old staircase. This home. It held love then,
it holds it all the more now.
That little cupboard. It held all the wonder a child could want, filled with toys, making it hard to leave. That cupboard, still there, as are the memories, in so much that when this particular visit came close to an end, it filled my heart with the same feelings of not wanting to go, but this time, due to those loved ones that pierced my heart with arrows of strong love.
Beck is the Name
My grandpa, my hero, who I loved beyond words, passed away years ago. My heart has always kept an empty space that he once filled, one that until this visit with my uncle, has never been fully whole. I have always loved my uncle, but something happened while in his home those few days. I saw a man like my grandpa in so many ways. Humorous, kindness and a deep sense of family, a very deep sense. I found my love for him grow beyond what had been there before and that hole filled in a little. I am truly grateful, not only for this time together, but for the wonderful caring person that he is and what he that weekend, became even more in my life. I love you Uncle Toddy.
Our trip was was way too short. With that, being able to spend a lot of time with my cousin Liz made it hard. Our first night, we did get to go out to dinner, where in her usual fashion, made the night so much fun, lively and made me want to spend so much more time with her!! I love the zest for life she holds, as well as seeing the remarkable mom she is. Ella, the youngest, is a true delight, making us laugh and just seeing that sparkle in her eyes as the thoughts of Christmas coming, was pure joy to be around. We also got to spend a bit of time with her oldest daughter Paige, making a late night run to The Giant, me seeing that hanging out with this girl would be so full of adventure. Our next visit, that's what I'm declaring! I need more time with these!!
My new little friend Ella. I love this girl!
One of my greatest joys was to be "reunited" with my cousin Gardner. Over the years, we've talked now and then on the phone, exchanging how each other's family was, talking about challenges and so on. But this weekend gave us a rekindled friendship and a bond of "cousinhood" whose roots shot down deep. Our similarities were so evident that we were family, a few months apart in age....two peas in a pod, even down to the little "awww" we would say when referring to something sentimental and such. My only regret is not living closer, for I know we would see a lot of each other, laugh way too much, and he could, in his smooth way, help improve my dance moves.
I love you Gar.
A Time to Mourn
On this bitterly cold day,
we would attend Bretts' dad's funeral.
Deaths are hard, especially when it's a parent. And although this photo seems like we are
all happy and dressed up for some festive event, it was sad in nature,
as paying respects always are. I though, in a very strange way, didn't feel that sadness. Of course I felt bad for Brett for loosing his dad, but I suppose it was because I knew Jack left this earth, no longer suffering, and now resided in Heaven. And this I knew, because I had the amazing opportunity of leading him to The Lord, a few months before.
That in itself was a true miracle!
We honored a WWII veteran
this day, and so much more.
Someone was speaking to me, drawing me out,
to remember things.
And to see red.
Early one morning, I felt the urge to venture out of the cozy warm little house.
My mind flooded with thoughts, words, as I walked closer to that place of long ago.
Bradley's Pond
"An ever so faint light snow began to fall as I stood before those beautiful garden grounds, and the pond that held so many memories of my now fading childhood. It was partially frozen over, but I remember the cold winter days we would walk to that pond, my friends and I, to enjoy it's cold hard surface on our skates. Bradley Pond will always be a warm memory in my heart, although then so inviting, it now boasted of a Keep Out sign and a wrought iron fence that kept me from exploring that beautiful little spot once again. It's held at a distance, like so many of my fond, and not so fond remembrances of my days in that old town of Wellsville."
I cherished that short walk, too cold to stay out long, for it brought to the surface not only the good memories dwelling in me, but as I let them, things in my past that I needed to let go of. I wanted to scream although alone, just me. "I'm not that same girl!" No longer was I trying to fill a void with God knows what, doing whatever, crazy bad stuff. I suppose I was screaming, only at those voices in my head, the accusations. I wasn't the same person I was back then, and this reality set me free, once again. And those lies that still try and say I am, a sign needs to be hung on my fence, KEEP OUT, that sign painted red, for the blood of Jesus.
Slowly I walk back to the little house, smiling, feeling warmth from love, from His love and the ones who awaited inside.
My joy is full.
As the time drew near to give those goodbye kisses and hard hugs, tears did fill my eyes as I realized how very much I loved these people, this place. Time and distance cannot be what holds us apart as it has done for so long.
