I miss my old town……
I miss the way it used to look and the old stores I went to.
Everything has changed or transformed. Everyone moved in their own direction and I have grown despite what some may have thought.
I miss the empty fields that were across the street from my old house. I miss the afternoon sun in the late winter months and how shafts of sunlight glowed through the naked trees.
Those fields are gone now.
The land has been developed into elderly housing, but my old house is still where it was.
Last I heard; the owners have changed twice since we moved.
I drove passed the other day.
It seems the new owners removed the spreading maple tree my Old Man planted in the front yard. The garage door needs to be replaced, but the front stoop is new.
What does my old room look like now? I wonder if the new owner ripped down the sheetrock walls and found the things I left behind. I suppose they may have found different things in my room, like small action figures from when I was a boy.
Maybe they found the empty gin bottles I used to hide in the wall beside my bed, or perhaps whoever sleeps there has already found the bags I hid, but I was too high to remember where they were.
The Old Man used to have hiding spots too. He used to hide money
I found him hiding money in the basement once. As soon as he noticed me sanding behind him, The Old Man yelled, “Go upstairs!”
Then he pointed to the hiding spot. “And don’t let me catch you in here either!”
He used to switch his spots…
After The Old Man passed, my mother said she found a stack of checks and receipts hidden near the washing machine.
I asked, “What did you do with them?”
She said, “I kept them.”
She said, “I felt like it was your father’s way of saying hello.”
I smelled an old familiar smell. It was something from my youth and I thought of the first big Christmas tree in The Plaza on Glenn Curtis Boulevard. I smelled the cold November air, the fallen leaves, and the smell of chimneys from nearby homes.
Maybe it was The Old Man’s way of saying hello.