I often wonder what in the TARNATION would my great- grandparents think of the world, or much less think of me?
My father uprooted us at a young age (due to a family tragedy) and I did not grow up in North Carolina where there were cousins by the dozens, everyone knew who you were, and exactly what you were doing. Most importantly, I did not grow up in the tiny town of Buies Creek where the university my great- grandfather founded now flourishes.
I grew up with a blanket of anonymity, and in their eyes a sea of people. Therefore I think I was kinda set up to crave the closeness that permeates a small town.
That's why sometimes when I gaze at these old photos my imagination runs wild. The photo above is the home my great- grandparents lived in while tending their farm, letting students board, and basically "getting it all done." I can't help but wonder. I can't help but compare. I stare at the tiny windows and wish I could peer inside just for a second. Life was so much simpler, yet also more laborious. How do we measure up, or do we?
What a beautiful home and what stories it must have to tell. I often wonder what it must have been like to live in a simpler time. I wonder if the closeness of a small town is as real today as it was in the past or if we just believe it is because of how they are portrayed in books and movies.
ReplyDeleteI agree Rita. I also believe there are pros and cons. Different people and personalities get smothered or stifled by a small town environment. Of course there is also “the grass is always greener” mentality, too.
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