it was great being in my pop and mamaw's house one last time before it is likely to be sold or rented. emptying out the drawers of our "new" furniture brought back many emotions and great memories. i took with me a small plastic bag of small trinkets of my mamaw's that probably would be meaningless otherwise, but because they were her's, i decided to keep them around. i also chose a few great classic books off my pop's shelves. my parents kept complaining of the "old smell" of the furniture, bedding, and such in the house, and how we would have to febreze them over and over. i love that smell. that smell brings back some of the best memories of my life. the smelly fishing poles in the carport reminded me of days on the banks of lake norman learning to fish with my pop. the smelly office/back bedroom reminded me of days i spent playing office with the old typewriter. the smelly living room reminded me of nights at the "kids' table" eating dinner with my family, and wishing with every ounce within me to have that one last time. the smelly backyard, in my mind, was still filled with a huge garden of corn, potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, squash, sunflowers, grapes, blueberries, etc. oh, and beans that made my skin rash when i picked them. the swing was there, too, in my mind, on the large limb of the huge tree right outside the back door. my pop would toss a rope over the lowest branch, attach a piece of wood to the rope, and swing us as high as we wanted to go. summer was there, and i was playing in the kiddy swimming pool beside the birdbath where i got stung by a bumblebee. they always were in the flowers around the birdbath. it was all there. in my mind. the most precious, priceless memories of my family and my mamaw and pop-- the greatest people to have ever touched my life. missing them is the hardest thing i've ever had to do. the gift, however, is that i still remember. i remember it all. i can't even remember what i wore yesterday, but god has granted me these vivid memories going back years and years because he knows they bring me peace. i will treasure my smelly trinkets forever.
crossville is different, but nice. we have a lowe's. that's a step up. also, our kroger(s) (if you're from middlesboro, you add an "s" to the end of store names) has a "nature's market" with all my special foods (even found waffles!), and i've already scoped out a great local farmer's market for produce. definitely more civilization. oh, and there are bars here, and restaurants where you can order drinks. a whole new tennessee world. i'm going to miss my little piece of ky, though. that long tunnel that took us from harrogate to middlesboro opened a lot of first doors for me. first real job. first dry town. first look at "coal town" life. first education in "bump-its." first time seeing almost an entire city on "checks." first time loving bluegrass. i know some of these sound horrible, but as a (now) rural social worker, this was an amazing learning experience. i think all social workers should have one great rural experience. it changes how you see the world, and how you "do" social work. question: how do you provide resources to people in need when there are none? how do you find someone food with no food bank in the area? you see, even as social workers we get spoiled by having a laundry list of go-to resources for those in need, but, as i have learned, those are not always available-- we must be creative. above all, we must continue to believe in the power of people. the power one possesses within one's self. there are many times i had to encourage over and over because that was all i could offer. i could not give money or things or pay someone's bill, and there was no where else i could turn, but i could tell them they would get through it. i knew they would. they had to. we all have to survive, and we find every way to do so. in closing, thank you kentucky, for your beauty, inside and out. thank you for all you have taught me. thank you for allowing me to be a wildflower. catch ya on the orange side. go vols.
