It isn’t easy living in a tiny town. The same town where I went to high school. And half of grade school. The same town that my father went to kindergarten in. Sometimes it feels claustrophobic. Moving back was an adjustment. In my perfect world, I would be living in a giant city. Walking the streets, surrounded by people, that I do not know, I don’t care to know. I feel most at home in the bustle, in the exhaust fumes, and people watching. A city life, was not in the cards for me. So we settled back here. In my little town.

It is wonderful to live so close to my family. My grandmother, my parents, and my sister and her family all live within a two block radius. I always have someone to help me, to talk to, to drink a beer with. Or to make me laugh. I get to see my sister’s kids and watch them grow. You really cannot buy that kind of happiness, and I am so grateful for this time in my life. It is a strange, relaxing time, juxtaposed with a cray insane work schedule. All or nothing, it seems.

Yesterday, after lunch with a friend, I had a chance encounter with an old friend at the Dollar Tree. It is times like these I am happy with my life. Standing in the aisle laughing about Robert Mapplethorpe and talking about record stores that still exist in the next town over. To have history with people, and to be able to interact with them, that is a priceless thing. During our conversation, I described a group of people as “young”, you know, our age. I was reminded that we weren’t young anymore. But we are. Having those kind of relationships, that are close even if you don’t see each other every day, even every year, it is those relationships can keep us young forever. And for that I am very thankful.